Arranged Marriages
by x-menobsessed26
Summary: A new law is passed by Congress and, though unconstitutional, is mostly approved of by the regular humans as it looks to ruin and contain the mutant race. Will the X-men follow the law or rebel against it? AU
1. Prologue

Newly elected senator of New York, Robert Kelly, celebrated his victory with a secret meeting. This meeting involved six other senators and seventeen representatives. Kelly was running this meeting and he hoped, even though he had just been elected, that his ties to old money and powerful minds with influence would help them listen.

"Thank you all for coming," he began. "I have called this meeting to discuss a very real and dangerous threat that has been plaguing the gene pool of humanity for years now, but has only just come to the knowledge of the majority. Everyone on Earth is a potential target for these people, and America is no exception. Mutants are real, dangerous, and here.

"I don't believe we need to discuss specific cases, but if you would care to hear more about these villains, I can certainly make that happen. I have filing cabinets filled with names. If you don't want to hear, we can continue our meeting."

No one spoke, silence filling the room with the humidity and stench of alcohol. When it was clear that none were going to, he continued, "Something needs to be done about them, but the question is what? What to do with these thousands of people whose very life poses a threat to ours?"

Silence fell over them again as he waited for suggestions. Finally, Alec Sanders, Senator for Texas, spoke up, "I believe everyone's first instinct is to imprison them. However, we don't have any jail space, funding, or labor to find and detain these people."

"Yes, we do," Marcia Hathaway, representative from 15th Congressional District of Pennsylvania, spoke up. "I just spoke with a friend who works in the Federal Bureau of Prisons. They have created four prisons specifically designed for mutants, and they're building more. They're reinforced and can be specialized for certain powers, so as to keep them there without them fighting back."

That news sent everyone into a shouting match about how to imprison them and such. After a half hour of pointless arguments which had gotten them nowhere, Kelly had heard enough, "Stop!"

Everyone slowly quieted and he spoke calmly, "If we simply round them up, there will be uproar, practical anarchy. Humans may not like the mutants, but they like absolute control even less. The worst part is you know I'm right."

"What do you suggest we do then? You're the one who brought up this threat!" Alec rolled his eyes in frustration.

Robert Kelly smiled evilly, making a few congressmen shiver, "We give them options, an ultimatum if you will, none of which the mutants will like, but that seem agreeable to the humans, though maybe not ideal, so they don't revolt. Playing with words is going to be crucial in this."

"What options would you suggest?" Michigan senator David Watson asked.

****"You're about to find out."


	2. The Legislation

**...yeah...this is one of those random stories that seems to pop up in my bathroom. Obviously, this is an AU (it says so in the story description). This fic doesn't follow nearly at all the movie's timeline. The idea for this fic is based off of a Harry Potter marriage law fic I'm writing at the moment.**

"How can they do something like this?" Warren Worthington III practically shouted. "Isn't this illegal?"

Charles Xavier folded his hands in thought, "It does seem obviously unconstitutional, but the fear of mutants has clouded the minds of humans, who are the majority of the voting population, mind you, to vote in favor of laws like this."

"Surely even regular humans can see how much like a dictatorship this could be. Surely they can see that it's only a hop, skip, and a jump away from this applying to them as well," Scott Summers pointed out in masked desperation.

Charles shook his head, "I'm sure many have figured out the actual plan and agree with it. They know that nothing like this would come even close to happening to them, and by the time this law might be appealed, their goal will be mostly completed."

Charles looked at his three students and sighed. Nineteen year old Warren was pacing the floor, grumbling curse words which could make even the most vulgar of men blush. Charles could only imagine what this would be like for him. Warren was the heir to a multi-billion dollar corporation with a certain legacy to live up to. This new law's restriction was going to ruin everything in the future for this young man and Charles knew in an instant which option Warren was going to choose (though he also knew it was really going to be his father choosing for him).

He then turned his gaze to twenty-five year old Henry McCoy, who was called Hank by everyone at the school. He was aspiring to be a scientist, though what field of study he still didn't have a sure selection on, but genetics seemed as good of an area as any to get his doctorate in. Charles knew also which option he would choose. It was the most logical, and Hank was nothing but logical.

Finally, he looked to his personal favorite student and surrogate son, Scott. Scott sat with his head in his hands, attempting to understand what this would mean for him. Charles' heart went out to the twenty-three year old teacher. Scott taught at the local public school while the Institute waited to be filled up with students appropriate to be taught by one such as him. Mutants. Charles could say for sure he had no idea what Scott would do, but he had a small idea.

All were different, each of the three options. None of which proved to be a good idea.

What were the options for?

Charles gazed at the television they had been watching for the last few hours as they once again announced what they already knew, what everyone already knew.

"Today, New York has announced it is the sixth state to pass the Genetic Assurance Act, which has been dubbed by the local press as the Shotgun Wedding Act. The other five states are Alabama, Michigan, Pennsylvania, Texas, and Wyoming. More states are projected to join this list within the year. It should be noted, before we announce what this new law and what it contains, that another small law has been passed with each one of these which proclaims that as of the time of the laws passing, any current resident mutants are the only ones the law pertains to. If you move into New York state or if your state of residence is one of the other forty-five, it doesn't apply to you.

"The Genetic Assurance Act is meant to contain the mutant problem. It gives mutants three options, three choices :

1. Mutants can choose to go to one of the new mutant jails for five years before they are released and given the three options again.

2. Mutants have one month from receiving a letter from the state of New York informing them of this law (this is where the mandatory Mutant Registration Act, which was passed six months ago, comes into effect) to choose a mutant spouse and fill in an application in order to contain the mutant problem. It is hoped that by marrying mutants off, it will minimized the amount of dangerous mutants in the world.

3. After the one month is over, they are given one last chance to choose jail time or option 3. Option 3 is the government taking note of other mutants who have chosen option 3 and pairing them up to be married to each other.

"Of course, there are other small details to go along with the law, but if the public wishes to know the full story, they can always go to and read the full story. This is Patricia Tilby for BNBC News 8. Now, back to you Ben."

Scott picked up the remote and turned off the television, "We already know what it holds. I don't think we need to listen to it anymore."

"Oh, but they just love rubbing things in, huh? I mean, first they royally screw us all over, but then they need to make up cute little pet names for something that has just ruined my life, all of our lives!" Warren shouted.

Hank smirked, "How do you really feel?"

"How are you all so calm about this?!"

Scott sighed, looking as if he'd aged a million years in three hours, "Because complaining about something we don't have a hope in hell of fighting is rather pointless."

"Is there anyone else this law applies to that you know of, Professor?" Henry asked.

Charles sighed, "Obviously, the three of you. I am going to be exempt due to my paralysis. Other than that, there is...well, really one I'm sure I'll be called in for advice on."

"Who?"

* * *

"NO!" seventeen year old Jean Grey screamed at the television screen, putting her hands to her temples. "This can't be happening!"

**Once again, I don't know where these crazy plot bunnies come from, but I hope you at least didn't hate it. :) If you're reading this, I'm assuming you at least read this far, so...thanks for reading. xD**


	3. Jean Joins X

**Swearing (minor, in my opinion) involved later in the chapter.**

Charles knocked on the familiar wooden door of the house. After a moment's waiting, the door was opened by a middle aged brunette. When her eyes fell on Charles, instant relief filled her eyes, "Good morning."

"Good morning, Elaine. How is Jean this morning?"

Elaine eyed the two men behind her daughter's mentor warily, "Not good. She was doing just fine until she watched the news last night. Every since then...well, come in and see for yourself."

She stepped aside and let Charles wheel himself in, the two young men following behind. Suddenly remember that his other students were there, he smiled at Elaine, "Elaine, this is Scott Summers and Henry McCoy. They are two of the students at the Institute. There is one other, but he took the news of the law rather hard, and he decided it would be best for him to stay back at the Institute. Scott, Hank, this is Elaine Grey, Jean's mother."

The men shook hands with the worried mother as she looked at her friend, "I hope it doesn't sound too rude, but what are they doing here?"

"Not rude at all. It is your house. They are here to provide you with a visual as to what goes into and comes out of my school. They were both students of mine once upon a time. Still are, in some ways," the older man smiled. "We were hoping to discuss Jean's admission to my school."

She wrung her hands, "Well, it would have to wait until John gets back from the university. He didn't want to leave this morning, with her in this state, but we thought it best. After all, we didn't know you were coming."

"Of course, of course. I need to tend to Jean first. Where is the young woman?"

Elaine gestured out of the hallway into the living room area. Charles nodded and moved into the room, barely getting through the doorway, "Good morning, Jean."

Hank's eyes widened and Scott's stomach dropped as he got his first look at Jean. It was an eerie sight. The young woman, beautiful in appearance with her fiery hair and desired figure, stared vacantly ahead, seeming nearly catatonic, but Charles knew differently. She wasn't catatonic, but was separating herself from other people so as not to lose control and her sanity. It left her seeming catatonic.

However, when she realized who had arrived, her face turned toward him and she smiled, but her powers also lost some control. Small objects started floating and larger ones shaking. Her hands flew to her temples as voices started creeping in.

Charles' voice stayed calm throughout the ordeal, "Jean, I need you to find something to focus on. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes," she whispered, shutting her eyes tight in concentration.

"Good. Now, think about slowly letting go of the physical world and building up shields against touching it. Do you understand?"

After a moment of hesitation, she nodded and scrunched her face up tighter. Slowly, objects began descending and the voices quieted. She was exhausted when she finished, but she still managed a proud grin, "Good morning, Professor."

He fixed her with a look, "I thought we agreed that you would not shut yourself off like that anymore."

"I couldn't help it! At least, not then! I was too shocked and upset by what had happened, and then my powers started going crazy and I didn't want to hurt anyone, so I had to lock myself up!" she defended.

"It's an effective defense, but it not only leaves you vulnerable, but hurts you mentally," he informed her.

She nodded sadly, knowing he was right. Then Jean looked up and saw the other two men standing with her mother, "Who are they?"

"This is Scott Summers and Henry McCoy. They are students of mine from my school," Charles replied.

"Professor Xavier was wondering if you would like to go to his school," Elaine told her daughter.

Jean bit her lip. Did she? She loved the thought of being able to learn how to control this, and maybe he had some answers to her questions about what to do with the law, but she didn't want to leave her home, her family, her life.

"You don't have to answer right this minute, Jean. Just give it some thought, would you?"

She agreed and then asked slowly, "What...am I...can I do...about this..."

"I don't know yet," he told her, not wanting to lie. "It's going to require talking with your parents and yourself. I think our first priority should be your powers and what we can do about them. If you come to the school, I promise we will work to help you control them. You are exceptionally powerful, Jean, and not even done growing yet."

She flinched at his words. She didn't want to be even more powerful, "I know your power is telepathy, but what can they do?"

Hank laughed, "What you see is what you get with me, my dear. The blue fur, the "looking like a gorilla"."

"Let's not forget the superhuman strength, speed, agility, and other small superhuman attributes. Oh, and the fact that you're a genius," Scott pointed out with a roll of his eyes.

Hank winked, "Scott Summers, the king of not being able to take a joke."

She giggled, "And what about you?"

He sighed and decided just to show her. Scott nodded to Hank, who pulled out a bunch of small plastic disks which looked like tiddlywinks, and tossed them into the air, one by one. In less than thirty seconds, he had hit them all. He smirked at her, "I used to not be able to do that indoors."

She outright laughed that time. Then she looked at her mom, "When do you think Daddy will get home?"

Elaine rolled her eyes, "You're seventeen, you still call your father 'Daddy', but you can't even call me 'Momma'?"

Clearly this was an old complaint, because Jean just sighed and Charles laughed. Scott and Hank shared a look and smiled. They knew they had just found their fourth X-man.

* * *

The door opened at about six o'clock in the afternoon, "Elaine? Jean?"

"We're in here!" she called to her husband.

John walked into the kitchen and smiled, "Well, well. I didn't think you were coming until Thursday."

Charles smiled and shook the hand of his former colleague, "Things changed, John. I apologize for the intrusion. I suppose I should have called..."

"Not at all," John waved a dismissive hand. "I see you put my Jean back to normal."

Jean pushed away her father's hand as it was messing with her hair, causing Hank, who was entertaining Jean, to laugh and nearly tip backwards in his chair. Scott watched the scene with a frustrated eye. Dinner progressed with John and Charles talking quietly, in voices no one else could hear, about the fate of sweet Jean. Elaine attempted to make sure everyone else in the house was sated, pouting whenever anyone would tell her they were fine. Hank found Jean to be rather enjoyable company, like a female Warren with a silly streak.

"Jean!" John called out to his daughter. "Decision time, sweetheart. Do you want to go with them?"

Her heart dropped, "I don't know. I mean, I want to learn to control myself, but..."

"You know you can visit or even come home whenever you would like," John added.

"Actually, it's not quite that simple."

All heads turned to look at the man who had been silent for nearly the entirety of the visit. Scott looked up with a bit of a condescending glare, directed entirely at John and Elaine, "I don't believe you two still quite understand what is happening here."

John was an easy going man, ready to listen before fighting back and not one to get angered easily, but his wife was...not quite the same. He knew it was no mystery which parent Jean had inherited her infamous temper from. Elaine glared back, dropping her fork onto her nearly polished plate, folded her hands, and asked, "What, pray tell, do we have to learn?"

Scott shot a bit more heat into his covered gaze and answered with his lecture, "First of all, your daughter is nearly eighteen and a senior in high school. I doubt she has even considered yet what it will be like to move to a new high school two months before graduation, if the high school is even able to get her instated during that time.

"Second, her powers are going crazy. She can't control it unless Charles comes and saves the day. He isn't always going to be there and her powers are going to expand. All in all, it's going to get worse. She doesn't have a choice. Either she goes to the Institute or she will die along with the many people she will kill in the process. She is one of the most powerful mutants on this planet, maybe ever to walk this planet. If she doesn't learn her powers, they will learn her, and she will be lost.

"Third, and perhaps the most obviously forgotten fact since it was the entire reason we came here, is the Genetic Assurance Act. Your daughter is either going to be pledged to be married within a year within the month or imprisoned. There are no loopholes to the law, no exceptions sort of terminal illness, injury, and/or infertility. The prisons they would send her to are not nice ones. If she doesn't go completely insane within her time there, the bastards running the place will kill her for what she is.

"My suggestion is simple. Hand your daughter completely over to Charles and have him research through all of the mutant men he knows to find an appropriate spouse for your daughter. Before you go nuts, she will not be married forever. This law will not stay in place for a very long time, but they'll make damn sure it gets past a year, which will have every mutant married, dead, or imprisoned. Am I teaching you yet?"

Elaine growled but said nothing, much to her credit. However, her daughter wasn't so nice. Jean jumped to her feet, her chair falling behind her, "Don't I have a say in this?"

"No," Scott told her. "No, you don't. For one thing, you are a minor. Until your eighteenth birthday, your parents can require you to do anything they want you to do short of what is illegal. For another, I don't believe your mental state is stable enough to make your own decisions. Even if I didn't believe that, that is the argument I would use as your parent in court when questioned about why I am making a decision like marriage to which you obviously will disagree."

She gaped for a moment before her face paled and eyes teared a bit, "You believe I'm psychotic?"

"In short? Yes."

A strangled sound escaped her throat before she walked over to him, slapped him hard across the face, enough to slightly jarr his glasses, and ran out of the room, up the stairs, and slammed the door of her bedroom shut.

After a moment, Elaine stood and went to go check on her sobbing daughter, with John following after staring at Scott for a moment. Hank turned to scowl at Scott, "What the hell were you thinking?"

Scott pointed to the ceiling, "Listen!"

They could vaguely hear the sounds of intense discussion, almost shouting, through the room which was apparently above the kitchen. Finally, a smaller voice, calmer, joined in with the louder ones. Whatever that voice said apparently ended the argument and the meeting dispersed. Hank looked curiously at Scott and he just shook his head.

Jean walked into the kitchen, tear stains still visible on her cheeks. She looked directly at Scott, "You know you're a dick, right?"

"I've been told that on occasion."

"Then maybe you should do something about it," she pointed out, turning to Charles. "Everything Mr. Dick said is what we'll be doing. It was my decision and I'm sticking to it."

Charles nodded and motioned to Scott, "He's not always like that."

She snorted, "We'll see."

**Chapter 2 is done! I'm more happy than I care to express with how fast I got this chapter out, considering how unhappy I am with this idea. Please review and let me know what you think.**


	4. Debates

**Thank you Mr. or Ms. Guest, whomever you may be, for the lovely review you posted letting me know that this story wasn't as hated as I was scared it was. Here is the next update, just for you Mr. or Ms. Guest.**

Jean pulled her bag up the stairs with her. Well, bags would have been more appropriate. It didn't help that, while she was being weighed down with about six bags and suitcases of her things, the staircases were huge and there was a lot of walking to be done. Not only that, but a certain shaded man refused to help her, even though he was standing a foot away, nearly laughing at her display.

She snarled, "Don't worry, I've got it."

"Glad to hear it," he chuckled.

She shot him a glare that would roast most small children, but he seemed immune to burning gazes as he merely grinned. She finally made it inside her bedroom and collapsed on the bed. He stood in the doorway, "Would you like any help?"

Jean smiled sickeningly sweet at him, shrugged herself out of the bags, walked up to him and punched him in the stomach. Normally, a blow like that, especially from a teenage girl wouldn't have hurt, but it didn't help that he wasn't prepared and she had a bit of telekinetic force behind it.

She then tossed her hair over her shoulder and walked off to start organizing her things. When he could breathe again, Scott rolled his shoulders and walked over to her, grabbing her wrists, "What the hell was that for?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"I offered to help you. I thought that was a customary courtesy in society."

She tugged herself out of his grip, "Not when you just walked beside the said person the _entire time_ to see that she was done before offering to help. I thought you were an adult. Your actions were akin to that of a child."

"Oh, yeah," he was starting to get aggravated. "What about your little punch? Was that the "adult" way to handle yourself?"

"Technically, I am still classified as a child," she sniffed.

"Thank you for proving my point from earlier. You. Don't. Belong. Here. You are seventeen and a waste of our time. I understand the Professor's connection to you, but, bless his soul, I can't understand why he would want to bring someone as thick headed and lost as you. Besides, like you said, you are still a child," he fought back, letting his anger flow onto her.

Only, Jean fought back, "How old were you when you were brought here? If my intuition is right, which it usually is, you would have been a child yourself. Not only that, but you want to talk thick headed and lost? I haven't seen a bigger lost cause than the one I'm looking at right now."

"Honey, you don't have to insult yourself just because you see your reflection in my shades."

She threw up her arms, "Exactly my point! You talk about being older and more mature, but the way you act is juvenile than anything I could ever hope to counter with. Not to mention that everything I have been doing is exactly that. Countering. I'm only on the defense here!"

"Yes, because you're just so perfect, aren't you?" he glared. "You better watch yourself, Ms. Grey. You have no clue what you are getting yourself into here."

She stepped closer, "No, Mr. Summers. I believe it is you who doesn't have a clue. Now, if you would be so kind, I would appreciate an opportunity to settle myself in and unpack, or would you rather do it for me?"

_Right into the creek. _He thought, but didn't say.

_I still heard it. _She thought back.

"I never asked you to read my mind!" he roared.

She snorted, "Like I wanted to. You're projecting loud enough for every potential telepath on the Eastern seaboard to hear you."

Fuming, but not disputing, he decided to be the bigger person, shut up, and leave. She smirked as she heard her door slam behind him.

* * *

Warren grinned, "Who was that? I haven't heard Scott yell like that in a long time."

Hank beamed with him, "The new girl. Jean Grey."

Warren whistled, "I like her already."

"Yes, well, let us hope we can all keep the arguing to a minimum from here on out, okay?" Charles replied, rubbing his temples. "I didn't bring her here to have debates over every little thing."

"This is going to be interesting, isn't it?" Hank asked, nearly laughing at the stressed look on his mentor's face.

"Interesting is one word you could use, yes."

By the time dinner rolled around, the boys were all sitting around the table with bowls and plates of steaming food, waiting for their guest. The clock said five minutes past seven and Charles smiled at them, "Well, I guess she isn't joining us. Let's eat."

Scott mumbled something under his breath and Warren looked up, "What was that?"

"Nothing," he shot back, glaring through his ruby lenses.

Hank pointed a fork at his friend, "Don't start badmouthing her because she didn't want to come down. It took you three days to come down after you got here. It took me two and Warren a week!"

Scott sighed, "I'm sorry. I just have a...really bad feeling about all of this."

Warren snorted, "Well, that's probably the Genetic Assurance Act. You know, that thing where we either have to get married or made to wear orange for five years. I know I have a bad feeling, 'cause if my Dad can't pull something together, I have to do the time, and I look terrible in orange. It clashes with my eyes."

The boys snickered and went back to eating. Charles glanced at Hank, "How is the research coming? Some with discovering how mutations compare to normal humans with enhanced talents?"

Hank launched into a small speech about how his friend thought that mutations were simply enhanced talents that they would have had as humans and that's why they seem to target certain individuals, but Hank was working to prove that it actually is the next stage of human evolution. It turned from a small debate into a campus wide fight.

Scott was glad for Hank's droning, even if he didn't much care for what his friend was saying. Sure, he liked that someone was doing the necessary dirty science work, and liked even more that the said person wasn't him, but he liked the background noise which didn't involve him even more. It allowed his thoughts to wander.

He thought first of the pile of papers he still had to grade for his Chemistry 2 class the next morning and all of the others he would have to copy and get prepared. His thoughts then trailed to who was in his class which led to wondering who would need to come in after school for extra help which took a large leap to who could come into the class, which once again brought his thoughts to the unwanted subject of Jean.

He had gotten into a few debates with colleagues and many more with friends and the Professor over the years, he'd had one three days ago with Hank about chemical causes of mutations, but never over something as stupid as what he'd done with Jean. He knew he didn't like her, he didn't like a lot of people, but he never lost control of himself. The worst part was she had known just where to hit, and not just on his person either.

Jean had a family, she came from money, and was an extremely intellectual individual if the grades he'd caught a glance at on her transcript were any indication. She was almost everything he was not, and it hurt, especially since, he couldn't believe he was admitting this, he was jealous over her relationship with Charles.

Jean already had a loving father. Why did she need Charles too? Unless there was something he didn't know.

* * *

Jean knew it was only appropriate to go down to dinner, but she just didn't feel up to it. She was exhausted and even more embarrassed by her earlier fight with Scott. She knew she would have to apologize, but she really didn't want to. He was a teacher and was supposed to act like one, not a student. She was a student and could get away with childish behavior.

It aggravated her to no end, knowing she was going to have to listen to him every day and then see him three times a week for physical training sessions. She didn't hold a large liking for chemistry in the first place, though it had more to do with the teachers she had previously been stuck with than the material, but now she had to have Scott 'Mr. Dick' Summers teach her?

Could this get any worse?

**I wanted to make this chapter longer, but I felt that with all of the breaks and such, it was time to end this one. After all, the next chapter will start a new day, and Jean's first day at the local public high school.**


	5. School

**I feel like I have to warn all of you. This fic DOES NOT take place in a distinguishable year. Meaning, I cannot say for sure if it takes place in 2005 or 2011.**

Jean woke up the next morning to Charles knocking on her bedroom door, "Jean, could you get ready and be down in ten minutes please?"

She did as she was told in a typical 'just woke up' daze and walked down to the foyer where Hank and Warren were pointing to an office door she took to be Charles'. Her guess was right as she knocked and walked in to see Scott sitting in a chair in front of Charles, "I...I..."

"Don't worry about it. I was just leaving for school," Scott told her in a much calmer voice than she would have expected from him.

The look of curiosity on her face making Charles chuckle, "I told you he wasn't usually like that. He can be rather...argumentative."

Jean shut the door and walked over to Scott's recently vacated seat, "What do you need from me, Professor?"

"Here."

Charles handed her an envelope. It was from the high school she would be attending now. Curious, she opened it and shook it a bit. Out came a list of school rules and codes, a school issued planner, and schedule. Looking over it, she became the angry sort of shocked, "WHAT?"

"Since you are a mutant, and it is on your record, you are required to be taught by a mutant with as many subjects as possible," he explained. "Also, most of the classes you are taking this year are science and math related courses, which are his speciality. You have also been signed up to take your other courses online. You will just be doing them in his classroom so he can supervise. Scott isn't that bad, Jean. I hope you will learn to see that."

She crossed her arms, "I'll give him a chance, but I make no promises. I don't like him."

"Yes, bad first impressions will do that to you, but he has also promised me he will make an effort. He's not one to back down on his promises. Honor isn't taken lightly with him."

She gazed sadly at her schedule, "All of them? They couldn't even give me a couple of electives?"

"Sorry, Jean, but all electives are reportedly filled," he said with a tone that told her exactly what he thought of that. She grinned.

Charles leaned forward, "I know you don't like how he interfered with your life, but he only just said what I was thinking. He's a great leader and a very intelligent man. You may not end up being best friends, you might not even like him, but I do expect you to try. I know you can, especially with how well you get along with the rest of the general population."

Jean giggled, "I promise, I'll try not to fight with him anymore. I'll try to be nice to him."

"That's all I ask. I also told the school you would have no problems seeing him as your teacher given the...unique situation here. I know you will, but I still felt I should inform you," he told her with a wink.

Jean stood, "I should be getting to school. Thank you, Professor!"

"Oh! Jean!"

She stuck her head back in and he smiled, "I just got a broadcasted message from Scott. He's waiting outside to take you to school. He was at his apartment when he realized you didn't have a ride, considering you left your car back with your parents."

She nodded, "Thank you."

"Have a good day, Jean."

* * *

After picking up an apple from the kitchen and her backpack from her room, she walked out of the mansion, once again awed by the beauty of the estate, but even more awed by the beauty of the car in front of her. Scott was inspecting the car when he saw Jean and smirked, "You like her?"

"She's gorgeous."

"Yes, she is."

The gorgeous, dark blue Mazda sat in front of her, gleaming in the early morning sunshine. Something about the car caught her eye and she beamed, "X shaped rims?"

He shrugged, "I've got to display my loyalty somehow."

She giggled and walked over to the passenger's seat while he got in the driver's. He watched her the whole way inside with narrowed eyes. She narrowed her eyes back with a playful smile, "You're not the only one who can glare."

"I'm not glaring. I'm watching out for my car. She's my baby, and I'll be damned if anything hurts her."

"Well, I'm certainly not going to," she said. _No need to make you hate me even more._

Scott laughed, "I don't hate you."

"How did you know what I was thinking?"

"DId you know telepaths can project their thoughts too?"

She blushed. They drove in silence until he pulled into the school. She gulped, a growing pit in her stomach. It was clearly the teacher's section of parking, but she could see the student's section, and it was filling up fast.

Scott touched her hand and smiled, "They're not as bad as they seem. Just a little loud."

"When hearing two voices from one person, I don't been more volume," she reminded him.

They walked into the school. Scott directed Jean to the office so she could sort out some paperwork and he headed to his classroom. He didn't expect Jean for a while, maybe even during his planning period.

* * *

The paperwork had taken an hour and the principal had wanted to talk with her about the school's rules, graduation requirements, and just being a mutant. When she was finally released, three periods had passed, which meant she had missed Chemistry 4, Advanced Government, and English 12. The principal had offered to show her where Scott's classroom was, but she told him she could find it.

And she did. She arrived at the classroom in no time, knocked at the door, and opened it. She wasn't sure if she'd felt more like a freak at her old school or this one with everyone staring at her. Scott smiled at her from where he had been teaching at the front of the class, "Hello, Jean. You may sit there."

He pointed to a desk in the front and she quickly took her place, silently cursing him for putting her in the front row. He was teaching another chemistry class and she looked at her schedule : Advanced American History.

She rolled her eyes, took out her laptop, and turned it on. The battery life sucked so she would have to talk to him in a bit about finding an outlet (and possibly switching her seat). It had been a gift from her father, knowing she would be taking at least a couple of online classes. Charles had probably gotten involved, that sly bastard.

She followed the instruction packet she had been given for signing on and was soon doing week 1 of her course. Apparently, the school felt no mercy about making her do an entire course when it was March. She felt a flare of anger for her genetics again. How dare they make her a freak?

All too soon, the bell rang and the class dispersed, still stealing weird glances at the new redheaded chick. Scott came over and sat next to her. Jean rolled her eyes, "Charles was right."

"Why do you make that sound like a bad thing?"

She groaned, "I was hoping you wouldn't be a good teacher."

He stared at her for a moment before glaring lightly, "You might be a bit annoying and argumentative, but you will certainly fit in with us. You sure are strange."

Jean stuck her tongue out at him, "That doesn't mean I like you."

"Of course not," he sighed. "This is my planning period, so I thought I'd talk to you for a moment if you were willing."

She shoved her computer aside for a moment and stared at him. He cleared his throat, "Yes, well, obviously you're going to be stuck in this classroom all day, so I'm going to give you some freedom in here. As long as you aren't disruptive or you break any school rules, I don't see why not considering neither of us are big fans of this situation."

She nodded, "May I move to another seat? One with an outlet nearby."

Scott jabbed his thumb at a door by the wall, "The science teachers are each given a storage room which we have made double as an office of sorts. I have a table set up in there as a desk. You may work in there if you wish, but only when it's time for one of your online classes. I never do work in there, myself."

She nodded, "Thank you."

"No problem."

Jean gathered up her things before turning back to look at Scott, "Hey, um, what is so annoying about me?"

Scott smirked back at her, "Figure it out."

She huffed, rolled her eyes, and stomped into the office, his laughter trailing behind her.

* * *

At the end of the day, Jean was nearly finished with what would have been week six of her government course, week four of her english course, and week seven of her history course. She found that she loved doing them online more than working in a classroom, though she would never admit it aloud. Her only 'in attendance' class she had been present for was her Biology 2 class, and it had all just been note taking and lecturing, leaving her with an opportunity to settle in before dealing with...people.

Scott came in with a knock, "I'd suggest getting ready to go. I just need to run and make some copies and I'll be leaving."

She nodded, packing up her things. She walked out of the school and over to the car, where she thought she would wait for him. She could just see his face if he saw her touching it, but she wouldn't do that to him. Well, not today.

She was watching the chilly wind make the leaves on a nearby tree dance when she heard a shout, "Hey! You!"

Jean turned to look, and sure enough. They were walking toward her.

"Yes?" she answered.

The leader of the pack of five boys, all big in build, was a man big with fat, not muscle, and had a mop of blond greasy hair. He smiled with dark, yellow teeth, "Who are you? I've never seen you before."

"My name is Jean Grey. I'm a new student here," she answered with what she hoped was a friendly smile and not one of her disgust. "What's your name?"

"I'm Lamont. These are Walter, Michael, Bryan, and Costache. Where are you from?"

She smiled even wider, hoping to mask her growing uneasiness, "I transferred here from a school up north."

"Why did you transfer?"

"I'm currently living at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters."

He took a step back, his eyes wide before they narrowed dangerously, "That's a haven for mutants. For freaks."

She shrugged. She hoped it made her look like the stupid blonde who had been sitting next to her earlier, "I don't know. It's a pretty place."

"I _do _know," he growled, the others cracking their knuckles. "We don't much care for mutants around here. Are you a mutant?"

She felt her anger flaring, "Maybe I am."

"Then maybe I have a right to protect myself."

"Protect yourse-"

Jean never saw the punch coming. It hit her in the jaw with a force she would never have thought him to be able to throw. She fell to the side and her head smacked the bumper of Scott's car and her face hit the pavement. It hurt. Then Walter, a thin man who looked like he played a lot of badminton, kicked her in the stomach, causing her to gasp for air, which wasn't coming.

"ENOUGH!"

The boys immediately back off. She looked up through her hair, which was turning the color of her blood, at Scott, who was standing with clenched fists and his briefcase. She would never have thought she would have been so happy to see the man.

Scott walked forward, his glasses nearly glowing, "Before I call the police and have you five arrested, which I don't think the courts would forgive you all for again, I suggest you remember that mutants are just as human as you."

"But she attacked me first!" Lamont cried in outrage.

Scott shook his head, "I saw the whole thing, Lamont. You attacked her. Besides, who do you think the police would believe. A multiple offender or a school teacher. Now, get lost. GO!"

They were running before he shouted the last word. He then turned to Jean, whose eyelids had drooped. He picked her up gingerly and put her in his car. She groaned.

"I know it hurts, but I have to get you out of here. Jean was barely able to look out the window, but she knew they weren't heading back to the Institute, "Where are we going?"

She could have sworn she said it loudly, but it came out as a whisper. He hands clenched the steering wheel harder, "I'm taking you somewhere closer than the Institute, somewhere safe. We need to get you cleaned up."

He pulled into an apartment complex, exited the car, picked her up bridal style, and carried her into the building. There was no one at the desk or in the lobby, so no one could ask questions. He somehow managed to unlock the door with her in his arms. Scott kicked it shut with his foot and walked over to the small sofa where he set her down.

He went into the bathroom and got some medical and cleaning supplies. He then walked back out to her, "This is going to sting. I don't think anything is broken, but you're going to hurt in the stomach area for a long time. You might have a concussion though, and you hit your head pretty hard."

She chuckled darkly, "So much for my pretty face being able to help me make friends."

His glasses glowed again, "They're not exactly the type of people you want to be friends with."

"Why not just take me back to the Institute?"

"Because Charles would freak. Well, not that he would show, but he would. He cares about you. He would probably send you back home, and I know that's not the best thing for you right now."

She nodded, "Alright. Thanks."

"No problem."

He worked in silence for a bit on cleaning bits of gravel out of her cuts before either spoke again. It was Jean this time, "You know, I could probably do this myself."

"You can barely open your eye," he pointed out. "You're not hurt often, are you?"

"Well, I used to professionally stick needles in my throat and set my feet on fire, but that proved too boring for my tastes," she nearly growled. "What do your instincts tell you?"

He nearly laughed, "You'll have to get used to the pain, Jean. You'll find out why soon enough."

She wasn't sure she wanted to, "Why do you care so damn much about my controlling my abilities?"

He set down the cotton ball he had been using to wipe a cut on her forehead, "I'm not sure I know myself. I read your file and I saw how dangerous you were. I guess I just don't want others getting hurt and the Prof. knows what he's doing. He'll help you."

Silence fell over them once again before Scott spoke, "I heard Charles had gotten a hold of two possible candidates for your open spouse position."

"Fantastic," she sighed. "Do you know them?"

"He didn't tell me their names or anything, but I'm sure they won't be too bad."

A curious thought struck her, "What are you going to do? Do you have anyone lined up?"

Scott froze in his movements a moment before speaking, "I was actually planning on going to prison."

"WHAT?" Despite the pain, she bolted upward. "All of that talk about trusting in the Professor and how the prisons are terrible when you're just going to go there yourself? Don't want to take a chance of sharing a cell with me or something?"

He gripped her shoulders, "Don't even try to think that you know what is going on with me! You don't! It took less than twenty-four hours of searching for Charles to locate two possible candidates for you and he's barely even started. I've been trying for six YEARS and I've found NONE!"

Jean was shocked, "So you're just giving up? I've seen the way people look at you. You're necessary, not just to mutants but to people in general. Think of what you could do! Besides, why not just let the government match you?"

He laughed, "Do you really believe they're matching with the best intentions?"

She knew they weren't.

Jean sat there thinking for a moment while he put bandages on the cut on her forehead and on her cheek. Then it hit her like a snowball in the face, "You know, we could get married."

**Next chapter is up, and it's about time. I feel like it has been forever since I updated anything (but it's only been a few days).**


	6. Interrogations

"_What?_" Scott stood up and backed away from her like she was some sort of disgusting animal.

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, "Why are you making such a huge deal out of this?"

He shot her a burning look and she nearly backed up, "How can you ask me such a stupid question?"

"It's not like we're going to be married forever!" she announced. "Look, you and I both know they're only doing this because they want to get as many mutants out of the picture as possible until it's legal to...outlaw us! The Supreme Court will eventually overturn this law because of its obvious unconstitutionality. When that happens, we'll be able to divorce. We just need to stall, right?"

Scott walked over to the door and opened it, "C'mon. I'm taking you back. Then Hank is going to give you something for your head and you can sleep this off."

"Will you just listen to me?"

"No!" he told her. "It's like talking to a drunk."

Jean snorted, "Did you just compare me getting punched in the face to being plastered? I only wish it felt that good."

"This is serious, Jean!"

"You're right! That's why I just voiced the perfect solution," she stepped a bit closer so there was no where he could go with his back to the door, which was now closed. "You're a science teacher. Take a look at the facts. You need a wife or you go to jail and vice versa. After they overturn this law, which they will eventually due to the push behind it to get it to the Supreme Court to discuss the constitutionality of it, we can simply get our marriage annulled."

"Why would I want to marry you?" he asked, more to himself than her.

She still answered, "Haven't you been listening? To keep you out of prison! You don't have to love me, like me, or even want to see me. You just have to show up, go through a small ceremony with me and we'll be safe until they overturn the damn thing."

"But I...we...I just...no," he shook his head. "I see nothing good coming out of this."

"Why not?"

"Because we seem to argue about everything!"

She scoffed and crossed her arms, "We've only argued three times, and they were about really important stuff."

"Oh, yes, because arguing about whether or not I was helping you was important," Scott rolled his eyes.

"Do NOT change the subject here! I need a temporary husband. You need a temporary wife. It's all here!" Jean fought back.

"I'm starting to think you want to marry me."

Jean fought back the urge to punch him, but her fists still clenched, "You can keep on thinking, hotshot, 'cause that is the closest that sentence will ever come to being a reality."

He took a deep breath and let silence ring for a few more seconds, "I'm going to finish cleaning you up, we're going back to the Institute where you're going to stay and meet the men Charles has it set up for you to meet. I don't want to hear anything more about us getting married. Someone else will have to drive you to school from now on and don't talk to me at school unless you absolutely must."

Jean swallowed the growing lump in her throat and then she realized what he was saying. Her eyes turned to emerald fire as she stood and walked out of the door. Scott grabbed her wrist, "I said we're going to fix you up."

"You're not going to be doing anything with me unless I tell you to, Mr. Summers," she hissed. "Not everything in life will listen to your controlling ways, you egotistical son of a bitch."

"You think I'm trying to control you."

"Repeat the sentence you just told me in your head a few times and you tell me. I'll be waiting in the car."

She walked away as he stood there frozen for a moment, trying to repeat his sentence. He gripped his keys tight in his hand a slammed the door shut, locking it with a force he was surprised didn't break the key or the lock. She had been right. He was trying to control her.

Oh, things were just getting better and better.

* * *

After they arrived back at the mansion, Jean immediately walked up the stairs and to the bathroom connected to her bedroom. She locked the door so as not to be disturbed and began completely the work Scott has started. She surprised not only by how little damage there was to reflect the pain she had felt, but at how fast and efficient Scott had been with cleaning her up. It was almost as if he had done such a thing before, but to be that good...

Scott, instead, walked down to the Danger Room where he told the computers to put him into an especially dangerous level. He was fuming with anger and frustration, needing a release. Items began blowing up around him almost immediately as he ducked, dodged, dueled, and dashed his way around the course.

Unfortunately, it was his first time testing out the new level and he wasn't as focused as he should have been for a level of that difficulty. His right foot landed wrong and slipped on a rock he had stepped on, making him tumble to the ground. He turned around just in time to see a robot, which looked like a tan skinned mutant who fired beams from his hands, firing at his chest. The blast never hit him. The simulation ended before it had a chance.

_Scott! I need to see you in my office. Immediately._

He nearly groaned. Charles sounded angry, and he was never angry.

This was going to be a _very_ long day.

* * *

After a quick shower, he ran up the stairs and slowed his running to a quick gait as he reached Charles' office. He opened the door, not even bothering to knock this time, and saw two uniformed police officers and Principal Evan Hummel, "Evening."

"Good evening, Scott. I believe you know Evan Hummel. This is Officer Braith Rybar and Officer Clara Piesse," Charles introduced with a smile though he was letting Scott feel with his mind exactly how displeased he was with these people being here.

Scott nodded to them and they nodded back. Evan sighed and ran a finger over his gray mustache, "I'm afraid we have a situation here."

"What about?"

"The new student, Jean Grey," Evan sighed again. "This isn't really a situation I like to be involved in, but I'm afraid I need to talk to you about a confrontation you are said to have witnessed."

Braith stepped forward, "Actually, we'll be doing the asking. He's just present because...well, I'm not exactly sure why, but he needs to be apparently."

Scott nearly laughed, "Ask away."

"Did you witness a confrontation between Ms. Grey and a few other students earlier?"

"Yes."

"Could you name those students, please?"

Scott pretended to think hard about the subject, though he really didn't need to, "Uh, let's see. I believe Lamont Bulwer, Walter Cazzola, Michael Bridge, Bryan Shelor, and, uh, Costache Aguirre."

"Was it just those five boys?"

"Yes, sir."

Officer Rybar looked over to Officer Piesse, "Are you writing this all down?"

She rolled her eyes, "Yes. Keep asking."

"Can you tell me what you saw?"

He pretended to think again, "Jean left the room and walked to my car, as I was going to be her ride back here until her car arrives, and I walked off to make some copies. When I got back to the classroom, she was still alone at the car and I began backing my briefcase."

Scott paused to take pity on Officer Piesse, who was writing furiously in an attempt to keep up. When her writing began to slow, he started again, "As I was putting a stack of papers into my briefcase, I saw the group of boys walk over to her. I closed it, grabbed it, and walked to the doorway, but stayed silent so I could listen, giving them the benefit of the doubt."

Evan turned a laugh into a cough. Those boys were trouble through and through.

"The boys were aggressive from the start, unfortunately. Lamont led them as usual and demanded to know who she was, stating that he had never seen her before. She has smiled at them and told them her name. He then introduced himself and the group asking then where she was from. She told them that she was from up north and he again demanded to know why she had transferred."

Officer Rybar held up a hand, "Are you telling this story without bias?"

Scott was offended and it certainly showed on his face, "Of course I am! Why in the hell would I not?"

"Calm down, Scott," Charles told him. "Officer, Scott is one of the most unbiased people I've ever come across. He'll tell the story like it happened."

The officer grunted and motioned for him to continue to which Scott nodded, "Instead of answering the question directly, she told them she was living here. His body language then got very...angry and he told her that it was a haven for freaks, mutants. She tried to calm the situation, but he told her that they didn't care for mutants around there and asked if she was one. She then got a bit angry asked what if she was."

Charles nearly groaned. He knew now why Jean hadn't shown her face around him. It probably wasn't very pretty. Well, not as pretty as usual, that is.

"What happened then?"

"Lamont told her that meant he had a right to protect himself and she looked rather confused as to what he meant until he punched her in the jaw. The side of her head then hit my car and her face hit the pavement. As if that wasn't enough, Walter kicked her in the stomach. They would have done more, but that's when I stepped in."

Officer Rybar narrowed his eyes, "And you're sure that's what happened?"

"Positive."

"Tell me about what happened when you intervened."

"I told them to leave before I called the police on them. They left. I then took Jean back to my apartment so I could see if I would need to take her to the hospital. I didn't, so I tried to clean her up a bit before we left to come back here."

"Do you often take your students to your home?"

Scott narrowed his eyes at the officer, "I don't like what you're implying."

"You don't have to like it. Answer the damned question."

"I don't think so. It's irrelevant to whatever case is building up here and what I do in my home is none of your business."

The officer stepped forward, "I do if it constitutes statutory rape."

"I never touched her or any other student in a way that would be considered inappropriate," he answered.

Charles looked back and forth between the men, "Is that all you needed from us?"

"Unfortunately no. We need to talk to Ms. Grey."

Scott and Charles both mentally cursed.

* * *

Jean was changing into something a little more comfortable, a pair of black running shorts and dark green babydoll t-shirt. She was just about ready to climb into bed to take a nap and sleep off some of the pain when she heard Charles inside of her head.

_Jean. I need you to come downstairs for a moment._

She groaned as she stood up and walked downstairs. She opened the door and sucked in a breath at the scene before her. Jean looked to Charles first and he nodded to the door, which she quickly closed.

"Jean, I believe you talked to Principal Hummel earlier today so you're already acquainted with him. This is Officer Rybar and Officer Piesse, here to talk to you about a confrontation you had with some boys at school earlier," Charles explained in a calmer voice than what he used with Scott.

She looked like a frightened fawn, "What about it?"

Officer Rybar puffed out his chest, making him look more intimidating, "Five boys came running into the police station earlier to say that they were almost attacked by a mutant who went to their school. They described the mutant as a pretty girl with bright red hair named Jean Grey. Would you say that adequately describes you?"

She nodded.

"Your face looks...painful. Did you get into a fight earlier?"

She nodded again, her voice failing her.

"Could you describe how this fight happened?"

"I, uh, I walked out of Mr. Summers' classroom to his car. He was going to take me back here and, um, I waited outside for him to come out. He said he needed to go and make copies. I was looking up into the trees and the sunlight when I heard someone calling out. I turned around and there were a group of boys coming toward me. I think there were five of them, and I don't remember their names, but the leader was sort of fat and blond, kinda dirty. Anyway, they asked who I was, I told them, where I was from, I told them, and what I was doing here, and that's when things got a little messy. Everything just...happened so fast," she was clearly flustered.

Officer Piesse shot her a sympathetic glance as she tried to continue, running her hands through her hair and unable to look at anyone directly. Jean had never felt so young, "The front one figured out that I was a mutant and didn't like it so he punched me in the face and I sort of fell into Mr. Summers' car and then the ground. Then another kid, a skinny one, kicked me in my stomach. I don't remember much after that, but Mr. Summers came out and told them to leave or he would call the police."

Officer Rybar looked displeased as everyone else seemed to relax. Jean was confused, "What...does that mean?"

Charles smiled at her, "That means that two stories match up almost identically and you are free to go back to bed, Jean."

She was still confused, but she took off as fast as she could, her face burning with embarrassment. She never had been good at public speaking, even in front of just a few people.

She wondered if some miracle would allow that to change.

Officer Rybar walked out first, grumbling about needing to talk with the boys again, while Officer Piesse thanked the other men for their time and walked after her partner reluctantly. Evan then turned to Scott, "Jean is not in trouble, but I'd like to suggest that she stay home for a couple of days before returning. I know she's just starting, but you know how those boys can get and what sort of connections they have."

Scott nodded, "We'll talk to her tomorrow."

Evan nodded and left, shutting the door once more. Scott turned to Charles, "Think she should stay home?"

"Of course," Charles sighed. "I just wish I had some men ready for her to meet so the time wouldn't be wasted."

"I thought you were looking into those two, what were their names, Sean and Ash?"

Charles snorted, "Let's just say, they didn't turn out."

Silence coated the air around them for a few moments before Scott broke it, "Do you know what is happening with Warren and Hank?"

"Warren is letting his father take over the spouse finding responsibilities. I hear he's looking at some rich young woman in England looking for a husband. Hank is going to wait for the government to assign him a spouse," Charles sighed. "I just don't know if I'll be able to find anyone for Jean anymore."

Scott groaned, "I know where you're going with this."

"Don't you think you could maybe just-"

"Absolutely not! Why can't you people understand this?" Scott shouted.

Charles raised a brow, "Who else brought this up?"

"Jean thought of it while we were at my apartment," he grumbled.

"She's smarter than people give her credit for. I think the question is, why are you, a man of logic, throwing away the simplest solution to this problem?"

Scott threw up his hands, "I don't know, maybe because I just don't like her. At. All."

"Never? There wasn't even one time where you thought you could even possibly tolerate her?" Charles smiled.

"I hate to be the one to point out that I've been tolerating her this entire time," he nearly growled.

"No, you've been biding your time to your next fight, but are they really fights or are you just being overly dramatic about this whole thing?" Charles pointed out, wheeling over to his favorite student. "I know about your distrust for teenage girls, but must you take it out on this one?"

Scott flinched, "I'm not taking it out on her."

But he didn't sound sure of himself.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked his mentor.

"Think about it. That's all I ask. In the meantime, I'll keep looking, but I fear we have less time than the media is telling us."

Deep down, Scott knew his mentor was right. Charles began wheeling out the door and said over his shoulder, "If you disliked her so much, why protect her and clean her up in the way you did?"

It seemed his thoughts were going to be perpetually filled with Jean, whether he liked it or not.

**This story is taking much longer to get out than I would have thought, meaning the story has to move choppier and slower than I would have thought it was. I hope this chapter wasn't too bad, but I truly disliked it. Too boring, IMO.**


	7. Strike One

"Jean! Could you come to my office please?"

Jean was sitting in a chair in the foyer, reading _The Book Thief. _Sighing, she picked up her bookmark and inserted it between the crisp pages. She then padded barefoot over to Charles' office, wishing more than anything she was at school. The Institute was just too boring sometimes.

She opened the door the rest of the way and then closed it before turning around. She was met with the face of her mentor and another she didn't recognize, "You wished to see me?"

"Yes, Jean, this is Carlos Javier. Carlos, this is Jean Grey," he cleared his throat. "He was brought here to, um, see if he would be a suitable temporary spouse for you."

She looked a bit confused, so Carlos stood, took her hand gently, and pulled her out of the room. She grabbed her purse from where it had been sitting near her book and water bottle. Carlos twirled his keys around his finger on the hand that wasn't holding Jean's, "Where would you like to go?"

Seemingly irrational anger spiked in Jean at the notion that she should wish to go anywhere, but instead she swallowed it, remembering this man was here to help her, and smiled, "Wherever you take me."

He winked, "Good answer."

He opened the door for her, a good sign, but once she saw the car she inwardly cringed. It was a rusted out hippie wagon. She prayed that her horror didn't show on her face. Carlos sighed, "I know, it needs to be fixed up, but once I get a job, that should be fine."

Jean just gulped down her mild disgust and entered the passenger's seat of the car. She knew she was being shallow and selfish, especially when this man was all the way out here to help her, but that didn't mean she was any happier about...him. She took a deep breath as he slowly made his way to the driver's seat and decided to at least make it through dinner.

Once he got in the car, he smirked, "Are you hungry?"

"Famished," she answered truthfully.

He started up the van, not without some difficulty, and made his way down the driveway. She just hoped the thing wouldn't crumble into dust on the way as she made sure to touch as little as possible. Jean closed her eyes and tried to picture herself in any one of a million happy places she had prepared for herself instead of where she was. It wasn't working. Eventually, the car stopped and she opened her eyes.

She would have laughed if she wasn't so horrified. Oh, she'd read about bad dates like this, but she'd always thought they were fictional! He began to get out of the car and shot her a look, "Are you coming, or are you going to stare at the sign all day?"

"No, I'm coming," she grumbled, attempting to sound cheerful but failing. How could she? He clearly hadn't heard her, as he was too busy checking out the scantily clad women walking past them.

She put her fuming anger on a back burner and let it slide. It wasn't as if they were supposed to be in love, right? However, it would have been nice if he would have pretended to pay attention to her. They walked into the restaurant and were immediately assaulted by a preppy brunette, dressed the same as the rest in the standard white and orange uniform, "Hi! How many today?"

"Two," Jean answered, since Carlos was too busy drooling.

The woman just pointed them to a table and they made their way around while tried to make herself as small as possible. Is it even possible to have a worse date than this?

The waitress came up nearly as soon as they had sat down, "Welcome to Hooters. I'm Emma! What would you like to drink?"

Jean looked over the woman, with her colossal breasts and overly bleached hair, and then to Carlos whose blue eyes had glazed over and was moving closer to the woman. Jean sighed, "Water, please."

Emma looked to Carlos, who licked his lips and smiled, "Eh, water too."

The woman laughed and walked away. Jean huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. Oh, this was definitely one of the worst meals of her life, and she hadn't even looked at what they had to eat yet. This was every bad date cliche!

The rest of the dinner went by in a daze for her as she tried to black out everything. She seemed to awaken by the end of the meal to Carlos babbling about who knows what. When she listened, she found out that he was talking about how his hands hurt him and that's why he can't find a job. She wished she would have just kept ignoring him.

Emma came back, "Is this separate bills or is one of you paying?"

"Separate, please," Carlos smiled at her.

Emma clearly hadn't been expecting that, but she recovered and got them their bills. To tell the truth, Jean hadn't been expecting it either, but she choked down her raging fury and pulled out the correct amount of money for her dinner. Just as Emma was about to walk away, he grabbed her arm and asked with what Jean was sure the thought was a sexy smile, "When do you get off work?"

Emma rolled her eyes and sent Jean a sympathetic glance, "Not soon enough."

Without another word, Jean stood up and walked out of the loud restaurant, wishing she had ruby slippers so she could just click and go home, "Hey! Jane! Wait up!"

"It's Jean!" she snarled.

He held up his hands as if she was a feral animal, "Whoa! Take it easy. We've only just met, right?"

She slammed his car door and tried counting down from ten. When that didn't work, she began reciting lines from her english essay. It began to calm her mind. The voices she hadn't even realized were there began to quiet.

He drove the short distance back to the mansion. Jean smiled sweetly at him, "Thank you for the single worst night of my life. Don't even bother to get out of the car, or come back...ever."

He glared at her, "That's real nice to say to someone who was willing to go out on a limb for you."

"You haven't done anything for me except ruin my night. Goodbye Mr. Javier."

She got out of the car and slammed the door. He was driving away before she could even turn around. Jean stormed her way into the foyer.

Warren was sitting in the same seat she had been in earlier, "Who owns the Hendrix-mobile?"

"A complete and utter asshole," she growled.

Warren laughed, "Bad date? I've had worse."

"Try me," she shouted over her shoulder as she stalked over to the staircase. She was halfway up them when she heard Charles call her back down.

She groaned and walked down the stairs. He smiled at her, but his eyes were hard and serious, "How was the date?"

Her fury came raging out, "If you really want to know, why don't you just go and call him or something, since I don't know how else you would know that worthless bastard! He is the most pathetic and arrogant waste of human space I've ever met!"

"Worse than him?" Warren inquired, pointing to Scott.

Jean cracked a smile, "Almost."

He laughed.

Charles rubbed his temples, "He's the son of an old colleague of mine. My friend assured me that his son knew what he was doing and had honorable intentions. I apologize for your night. Would you mind if I took a look?"

Involuntary alarm shot through her, but she shrugged her shoulders and tried to relax her mind for the familiar probe. She felt him enter her mind and search around, eventually coming out with a scowl, "Did he really take you to Hooters?"

Scott choked on the drink of water he was sipping as Warren and Hank roared with laughter. Hank beamed, "That's one way to wow the ladies."

"Yes, he did," she told Charles, ignoring Hank.

"I'm very sorry, Jean, and I promise I will try better with my next match."

Fear shot through her as she remembered that she would have to be matched again. Seeing it, Hank chuckled and turned on the television. Warren grinned, "You know, I know a couple of mutant jocks from a local fraternity. I'm sure I could-"

"Professor! Look!"

Everyone's attention turned from the redhead to the television which had the words _Genetic Assurance Execution Date Moved_ emblazoned across it.

"Turn up the volume!" Scott demanded.

"of recent developments, the date set for all mutants to find a spouse and report it in has just been moved to one week from today. That's right, all mutants have just one week to tell the government which person they are planning on marrying or they will have to face options two or three. The reasoning behind this is-"

"Turn it off, Hank," Warren groaned. "I don't want to hear their lies."

Jean stared fearfully at her mentor's face, "What does that mean?"

"It means we don't have much time left, and you're already at strike one," Charles informed her as he wheeled away.

**This date was based off of a date my best friend's sister had gone on and told me about. Yes, he really did take her to Hooters, own a rust bucket VW, and ask the waitress out. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did (it was making my friend laugh as I wrote about the experience, so it made me laugh).**


	8. Strike Two

"Do you know where that new girl is?" Scott heard one of his students, a senior named Rebecca, ask her friend, Margaret.

Margaret shook her head, "No. It seems weird that she was only here for one day."

"Maybe she was a shadow for someone?" Rebecca suggested.

"Not a chance! I heard from Tristan that she was in Mr. Summers' classroom all day! Most of the time, she was in his office!" Margaret whispered furiously back.

Rebecca gasped, "Maybe she's the mutant that got into it with Lamont! Do you remember what the girl's name was?"

Margaret gasped too, "Her name was Jean! It was her!"

"Do you think she's crazy? Maybe that's why they took her out."

"Crazy and _dangerous?_" she gasped.

"Are you two always this stupid?" Nick, another student asked them. "It is practically required that they suspend her! She'll probably be back in a couple of days."

Rebecca crossed her arms, "Probably, but you don't know. Do you know her personally?"

"No, but there's no evidence that she's crazy."

"Why don't we just ask Mr. Summers? I heard she lives at Xavier's and you know he teaches there!" Margaret suggested.

Nick laughed quietly, "Yeah, let's just go right up to the teacher and ask him if he thinks one of his students is insane. Great plan, girls. No stupidity there."

Margaret stuck her tongue out at him and went back to the work Scott had assigned them. His heart went out to Jean for what she was going to come back to. If she wasn't going to have many friends before Lamont and his crew attacked her, she was going to have even less now. Maybe even none.

_And there you are, always acting like a capital dick to her. _a small, annoying voice shouted at him from the rear of his mind.

_I'm not being a dick. I'm trying to be concerned. She's one of my students. It's practically my responsibility to worry about her. _He fought back.

_You tutored Warren and he's one of your best friends. You have a classroom full of children here that you've never called annoying or argumentative to their faces and they're your students. Hell, you're still a student to Charles and he never commanded your parents to do anything._

_That's because I don't have any parents. Mine are dead. _He screamed back at the stupid voice.

_How is that relevant? You know that even if you would have he never would have done what you did. There's no excuse for anything you've been doing to the poor girl._

He knew that voice was right. He didn't even know why he was fighting with himself over Jean. He knew he enjoyed arguing with her, she was a very intelligent girl and clearly an accomplished debater. However, Scott knew she was also young, semi-innocent, and unprepared for what the X-men truly entailed. He wondered if Charles had even informed her of that little bit.

_Give her some credit. You yelled at her, insulted her, and have been ignoring her existence for some time, and she still came to the Institute and hasn't done anything to retaliate._

_If she was truly responsible, she would have made the match Charles had for her last night work! She's acting like a spoiled child! _Scott didn't want to lose to himself, but he knew he would. His conscience was right and he knew it.

_You saw the date yourself, stupid! You know how rudely he treated her! You're lucky she didn't punch him in the jaw, since I know that's exactly what you wanted to do._

He was startled, not wanting to focus on that fact. _No one should treat a woman with such disregard as he did. I mean, Christ! Why did he even bother to bring her along?_

_He was told to._

Scott sighed and admitted defeat, but it seemed the other side of his mind wasn't quite finished with him. _You should just admit it, stupid._

_Admit what?_

And it was at that moment he knew what was coming, and he mentally screamed at the voice to shut up before it could proclaim what he was sure would tear his fragile mental state to shreds with confusion.

_You're infatuated with her._

* * *

"Another date?" Jean asked doubtfully. "Already?"

Charles sighed, "I know your trust in my matchmaking skills has dissolved because of last night, but this isn't about a perfect match. You just need to find someone you can be semi-sane living with for...well, until this is resolved. Clearly, Carlos wasn't it."

Jean huffed in amusement, "You think?"

"Often," Charles laughed. "I promise Tyler isn't as bad."

She sighed, "When's the date?"

"Tonight. Tyler is twenty-two, so not too much older than you, and very shy so be cautious. He'll pick you up at seven."

Jean nodded, "Thank you, Professor."

"You're welcome, Jean."

She left and walked upstairs to find something to wear for the date. Having no idea where they were going made it a bit difficult, but she decided on a pair of dark jeans, black camisole and ultra sheer, dark green shirt with flowing sleeves. Opting for a pair of green heeled sandals (heels always seemed to make an impression), she walked down to the kitchens for a snack.

The clock on the microwave read _6:30_. She sighed, took out a bottle of water and a carrot and began to nibble. Just then, Scott came walking into the kitchen, jumping a bit when he saw her, "Have you seen the professor?"

She swallowed, "Nope."

"If you see him, will you tell him I'm looking for him?"

Jean gave him a mock salute and continued to nibble on her carrot. He quickly walked back out of the room, leaving her alone. Her solitude was quickly interrupted as Hank came in, mumbling about the chemical composition the cream filling of the doughnut he was about to indulge in. She giggled.

"Oh, Jean! I didn't realize you were in here!"

She groaned, "First Scott, and now you! Does anyone even realize that I live here?"

Hank laughed, "More likely just my absent minded ways and Scott's overworked head."

She snorted and took a drink of water. He sat down across from her and gave her a strange look. She stopped drinking, "What?"

"Nothing, it's just...you know, I've never seen Scott act like this before."

"Hostile?"

Hank laughed, "Hardly. He's just...more aggressive when it comes to you. Maybe you remind him of someone or something?"

"Yeah, the devil."

"Maybe. Maybe not. You should probably talk to him."

"I can't even be in the same room with him for longer than it takes to spit out a sentence!" she protested.

"It was just a suggestion, Jeannie. No need to bite my head off," he argued.

"I will if you call me 'Jeannie' again."

"Noted."

A car horn honked outside and Jean stood, "That's my date."

"Already? I would have thought Charles would have given you some recovery time from Carlos," Hank grinned.

"Hardly," she winked, walking out of the kitchen to face her date. He chuckled and shook his head. Oh, they didn't even realize just how alike they were, her and Scott.

"It's kind of cute, but totally in a masculine way. I would never admit to otherwise," Warren's voice proclaimed with a wink.

"What is?"

"The way that they think they hate each other. It's like when your new puppy pees on your white carpet. You want to punish it, but something in you just can't."

Hank thought about it, "That's actually sort of fitting. Dogs mark their territory and I think Scott believes somewhere in the primal side of his mind that Jean is moving in and taking his territory. They're fighting is simple claiming."

Warren chuckled, "If Scott is this malicious when it comes to claiming the Professor, can you imagine what he's going to be like-"

"I know," Hank shook his head. "Let's just hope it's not either one of us that falls for her too."

* * *

Jean opened the door to the mansion and saw a nice 1994 Ford Ranger grumbling in front of the school. She ran down the small sidewalk to the car and stepped inside, "Hi! You're Tyler, right?"

The young man blushed crimson, "Yes. You must be Jean."

"Yep!" she smiled at him, already knowing this date was going to be better.

Tyler looked out Jean's window and then did a double take, "Who's that?"

"Who?"

"In the window."

Jean looked up and saw Scott leaning against the window ledge with a book in his hands, "That's Scott Summers."

"He looks angry," Tyler said warily.

Jean laughed, "He always looks that way. Pay it no mind!"

He drove away and she took her first look of him. He was skinny, nearly a toothpick, and had a head of auburn hair, combed to perfection. His teeth were a bit crooked, his nose a little too straight, and complexion pale with nervousness. It was almost cute.

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but what happened to your face?" Tyler asked, not daring to look up from the road.

Jean sighed, "Anti-mutant high school jerks."

His eyes widened, "Are you alright?"

"I am now."

They drove, past Hooters much to her relief, and arrived at a practically abandoned park. He got out and, after a slight hesitation, Jean did too. A dark blush was finding its way across his cheeks as he opened the bed of the truck and pulled out a picnic basket. She grinned, "A picnic."

"I haven't gone on one in a while, and I've always loved spring weather, so I thought maybe you'd join me?" he blushed deeper, a shade that was clearly unhealthy and rather alarming.

Jean walked forward and took the basket from him, still smiling, "You don't have to be nervous. I'm not going to bite."

The shade seemed to lighten minutely, but it was still dark, "I'm always nervous."

They walked over to a spot of soft green grass and spread out a blue and white blanket. Slowly, they took the contents of the basket out and onto the blanket. Jean smiled at him, "So what can you do? What is your...mutation?"

"I, uh, I..." he smiled sheepishly. "I have phytokinesis."

Jean looked confused, "I'm new to this...universe. I don't exactly know names yet."

"I can manipulate plants."

She gaped, "Seriously? That's awesome!"

"Yeah...what's yours?"

Jean blushed, "Telepathy and telekinesis."

Now it was Tyler's turn to gape, "Two?"

"Well, really, wouldn't you have a bunch of them? Like, one for every sort of plant you can manipulate."

He smiled, the blush becoming that which never was, "Yes, but that's nothing compared to mental powers."

"Well, technically that's what you're doing, is it not? Sort of like telepathy for plants?"

They spent the rest of the date in a friendly argument over their powers. It was nice.

"Yes, but I'm sure once you practice, your telekinesis will be able to hold much more than a few vines of mine can. My boyfriend's aerogenesis wouldn't even be able to compete," Tyler laughed.

She grinned, but then what he said registered, "Boyfriend?"

He froze, "I..I..."

"You're gay?" she asked.

He bowed his head, tears visible before he squeezed his hazel eyes shut, "Yes. It's just...Charles asked for a favor and he doesn't know, and since gay marriage isn't legal, we thought I would try to find suitable matches for us to stay out of prison, but Ian doesn't want that. I can see why, now."

She kissed his cheek, "You're sweet, but you should have just told me."

"I know. I'm sorry, Jean."

She shrugged, "No harm done. You should just apologize to Ian for trying to make a date with someone else work...and tell Charles why we're not getting married."

Tyler looked startled, "Won't you go to prison too?"

"If I do, I do. I'll keep trying to find someone else. It's clear how much you miss your boyfriend, though. Go back to him."

He smiled and hugged Jean, "Thank you!"

"Why are you thanking me? You've just chosen to go to prison," she shook her head, beaming.

"Because I'm crazy."

"Not as crazy as me."

"I beg to differ."

And so started another friendly fight.

* * *

Jean and Tyler walked into the mansion and Charles smiled at them from where he was engaged in a conversation with Hank, "So?"

Tyler shifted his feet, "I feel like I owe you an apology."

Tyler explained with Jean helping when Tyler's shy and tentative nature overtook him at times, leaving Charles shaking his head, "Why didn't you just tell me? I wouldn't have asked if I would have known."

"I'm sorry for wasting your time! I know you probably could have found at least three other men for this one here," he announced with a smile, ruffling her red hair.

She swatted back at him, missing, and causing him to laugh. Charles sighed, "I'm afraid not."

They all froze, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, we're out of men," Charles' blue eyes darkened and turned grave. "I'm afraid, you may have to...be assigned to someone."

Jean's eyes widened, "There's no one left?"

"I'm afraid they've all already assigned themselves, and with the deadline being pushed up, they were desperate to get matched in case it gets moved up again."

"There's no one left," she whispered to herself, letting Tyler wrap a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"Actually there is," a new voice proclaimed from the hallway.

All eyes turned to face Scott. He ignored everyone else and looked right at Jean. Suddenly, Jean knew what he was saying even before he was going to say it, "So what you're saying-"

"Me."

**Not as long as I would have wanted it to be, but I just felt like posting another chapter. Please review! They are my candy...and I like candy. ^_^**


	9. Achieved Peace

The room was silence personified for a few moments. Hank stared wide-eyed at his friend, who had just announced he was practically willing to sell his soul to Satan (the government, not Jeannie), Warren was trying not to laugh from the top of the stairs, Tyler was confused as to why this man whom he had just been told was always angry was willing to marry his new friend, Charles was in utter shock, and Jean just smirked, "Finally accepting what I told you would work."

He held up his hand, "I don't need and 'I told you so' lecture from you."

"But apparently you need my pledge to you."

"Aren't you supposed to be grateful that I'm doing this for you?"

"Oh, how gracious of you to go out of your way to make an affirmation to temporarily marry me, but if you'll excuse me, I'll pass," she said, walking up the stairs.

He scoffed, "And here I was trying to believe you were intelligent."

She turned on him, "You were never trying to believe anything positive about me. For some reason God only knows, you've been out for my blood the moment we met. I don't know what I did to set you off and, to tell you the truth, I don't really care, but I sure as hell know that I don't want my name anywhere near being bound to yours for any amount of time if this is how you treat people."

With that, Jean attempted to walk away again, but he grabbed her arm, "Do you think I feel any different? You have been a huge pain in my ass since you got here."

"Your ass? I didn't know it was _your_ school and _your _tutelage I was going to be under. I was under the impression that the plaque outside read 'Xavier' not 'Scott'. Thank you so much for clearing that up!" she shouted back at him.

"ENOUGH!" Charles boomed.

Everyone froze again. Tyler was the one to break the silence this time, "I'm just going to leave now. Goodbye everyone. I hope you see you again someday, Jeannie."

And with that, he took off, happy he wasn't going to be there to see the fallout of this explosion.

Hank and Warren shared a look and wisely decided to take their leave as well, knowing that they didn't want to be punished for something they didn't do. If Scott and Jean wanted to act like children, let them, but they didn't want to be scapegoats.

Speaking of Scott and Jean, they were still glaring at each other, Scott's hands firmly locked around Jean's narrow wrists. Charles wheeled over to face their profiles, "I don't know what has gotten into you two, but you need to sort this out. To start, Scott, let go of her."

He dropped the arms he hadn't been aware he was still holding and took a step back. She rubbed them, trying to ease the ache. Charles smiled forcefully, "Better."

Jean snorted. Scott rolled her eyes. Charles felt his anger burning again, "Scott, you are an adult. Jean, you have always acted like one, especially now that you almost are. Why are you both suddenly acting like kindergartners?"

Jean folded her arms across her body, staying silent for fear of sounded even more immature. Scott's shoulders sagged in defeat. Neither of them liked to be punished, especially by those they respected. Charles was one.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Scott apologized.

Charles chuckled, "It's not me you should be apologizing to, though it doesn't hurt since it was an unwarranted disruption. You both may also want to think about apologizing to Hank, Warren, and Tyler, though the first two seemed to enjoy it more than anything.

"Now, I don't expect the both of you to be best friends. I knew eventually I would get people in here that wouldn't connect, but there's still potential for you two. I don't expect you to get along right away, but I do expect you to act your age and make an effort.

"That is especially important since I believe it would be a smart and responsible decision to accept his offer. It's only going to be until they overturn the law. It would also be smart to remember that you are not the only two in the nation in this position. I'm sure there are many mutants who can't find a partner, and those who are put with ones they really don't want to be with. Your blond friend is one of those," Charles concluded, eyeing the top of the stairs.

Jean blushed, ashamed, "Fine. I'm sorry for being a bitch to you, and I will try not to be in the future. I also accept your offer. Thank you."

He had always laughed at the crappy, scripted formality behind situations like this in television shows, but now he understood why they were done that way, "I am sorry, also."

Charles smiled genuinely, "Good. Now, you both need to get some sleep. I have some calls to make in the morning, and you both have paperwork to fill out. Also, Jean, your online classes are still going to be supervised by Scott, but your science classes you would have had with Scott are going to need to be done here with Hank. You two can work out your own schedule."

With that, he wheeled away into his office. It was 9:15 and the night was only beginning. Scott looked at Jean with a slight smile, "I hope you weren't hoping to have friends at school."

Jean sighed dramatically, "I've never really been the 'have lots of friends' type of girl. It will be just like home."

"Only different."

"Exactly."

* * *

Jean woke up the next morning to someone knocking on her bedroom door, "Jean! Your parents are on the phone and they aren't happy."

She groaned, "I'm coming."

She quickly dressed in a change of clothes and walked downstairs, into the kitchen, where everyone was sitting. Charles held a black cordless phone in his hand where she could still make out a voice. A loud voice. An angry voice.

Jean rolled her eyes, causing Warren to chuckle, and took the phone, "Calm down, Mom."

"Don't you tell me to calm down, young lady," Jean pressed a button on the phone to make it speaker, so everyone could hear it. "What have you done?"

"Let her speak, Elaine, for the love of God!"

Jean grinned, "Hi Daddy!"

"Hiya Pumpkin! How's life there?"

"Don't ask her about that right now, John! We have bigger things to worry about."

"You have bigger things to worry about. I, on the other hand, want to talk to my daughter."

"Some family you've got there," Hank whispered with a wink.

She giggled, "You haven't heard anything yet."

"That's what we were hoping for!" Warren proclaimed, still a whisper.

Scott bonked him on the head, "What you were hoping for. I didn't take the day off for this."

Jean sighed, "Momma, you know if Dad gets out what he has to say right now, we can move on and talk about the big stuff."

The voice on the other end was quiet for a few moments, a few glorious moments, before she relented, "Continue."

Jean heard her father chuckle on the other end, "So how was school?"

"You...don't know?"

"Know what?"

She groaned, "Damn! I forgot to call you!"

"Language!" her mother scolded.

"Call us about what?" John asked.

Jean looked sheepish, even though they couldn't see, "I was involved in an...altercation."

"Oh, my poor baby! Are you alright? They didn't hurt you, did they? If they did-"

Jean cut her mom off, "No, Momma, they didn't hurt me. Well, not too bad. I have a wicked shiner and a sore rib cage, but otherwise I'm fine. They figured out that I was a mutant and didn't like it very much."

"I thought you people were supposed to be protecting my baby!" Elaine shouted. "Do you want to come home, sweetheart?"

John chuckled again, "I thought you were just angry."

"Why are you laughing? Someone just hurt our daughter!"

"If she was seriously injured, we wouldn't have just been informed. I'm sure she's just fine, aren't you, Red?"

Jean grinned at the nickname, "Yep!"

"What did they do to the others?" her mom asked.

Jean looked at the men in the room, "I'm not sure. I know they suspended me for a couple of days, but I don't know about them."

"They were suspended, but only because the principal is a mutant sympathizer," Scott told her.

"Well, at least that's something. Will you be okay for the rest of the year, Jean?"

Jean rolled her eyes, "I'll be fine, Mom."

"Now...WHAT WERE YOU THINKING WHEN YOU AGREED TO MARRY HIM?!" she began her loud rant again.

Warren lost it, laughing away loudly. Scott put his head into his arms on the table, indicating to Jean that he had been through this all morning with no success. Hank tried not to join in with Warren and Charles just shrugged at Jean with a smile.

Jean tried talking through her mom's noise, "Daddy?"

The noise was quickly muffled, and Jean imagined her dad holding a pillow lightly against her mom's face to quiet her, which he had done before to her amusement, "Yes, dear?"

"Can you possibly get Momma to quiet down long enough to hear me out?"

"I'll call you back."

John hung up. Jean sighed and collapsed into a chair, "I'm starving, tired, and now my mother is yelling at me. Sounds like a Monday."

"Except, it's Thursday," Hank pointed out, pushing some buttered toast toward the girl.

"I know," Jean groaned.

Even Scott smiled.

The phone rang again. Jean hesitated a moment before answering, "Hello?"

"Hello, Jean. Would you care to explain?" her mother said, fake sweetness dripping from her words.

Jean rolled her eyes again, an apparently frequent occurrence when she conversed with her mom, "Are you actually going to listen?"

"...yes."

"Alright. Well, two days after I was here, I was told I would be going on a date with a man named Carlos. He was a right jerk. He took me to Hooters (Warren snorted) and then asked our waitress out, with me right there! I thanked him for the worst night of my life and told him to never come back."

"That's my girl!" John laughed. "Ow! Elaine!"

"I did not raise you to be rude to others, Jean Elizabeth Grey!" her mother scolded.

"I believe this case called for it though. Besides, he would barely count as human, so it was a win/win. I didn't insult anyone worth a damn."

"Language!"

Jean put her chin in her propped hand, "Anyway, I went on a date the next day with a guy named Tyler. He was nice and sweet and-"

"Why didn't you choose him?"

"gay, Mom," Jean continued. "He's gay. I'm sure you can understand his want to stay out of prison, but at the end of the day, he just couldn't leave his boyfriend to face prison alone. He chose. When we came back, I was told that there were no more people for me to...try out, so to speak, because of the deadline that was moved up. It frightened a lot of people and made them look for the most immediate solution."

"And Scott is yours?"

Jean thought, "Yes, he's my solution."

"As we were trying to explain to you, Ms. Grey, this union will be very temporary," Charles continued, winking at the young girl. "She won't be Mrs. Summers for very long. Only until they rule the Genetic Assurance Act unconstitutional."

"And they will?"

"I have no doubt."

She could hear her mother's breath of relief through the line, "Alright, but I expect an actual wedding. No daughter of mine will bring a man into this family, even temporarily, and not have a ceremony."

Jean groaned, bashing her head onto the table. Why couldn't the world have just eaten her? Give her uncontrollable powers? That's just cruel! Eat her? Awesome!

"You'll have your ceremony, Mrs. Grey," Scott told her.

"Thank you. Jean, you better start calling me. I don't want to hear of anymore fights, you hear me young lady?"

"Yes ma'am."

They said their goodbyes and Jean looked around the room, "Does anyone want to adopt a mother? She's free!"

Jean wondered if one of Warren's powers was being able to laugh and breathe at the same time.

* * *

Scott walked into his bedroom and locked his door. He didn't want his thoughts disturbed. They were already disturbed enough. Disturbing would probably be more appropriate.

He should be locked up with the key thrown away for the things he was thinking. He was rather glad that Charles had taught him to shield his mind from telepaths, otherwise he would be rather embarrassed. Charles would definitely not approve, and Jean would probably punch him in the face.

He would even let her.

Maybe it would knock some sense into him. He punched the wall, causing a dent and thanking whoever was listening that he hadn't hit it harder.

Scott was sick of his irrational fantasies. He wasn't a stupid hormonal teenage boy! Why was this happening to him?

It was his sophomore year all over again, and instead of Kelly Milligan, it was Jean Grey. The fantasies where the same, but better executed and much more realistic. Oh, he could barely even look at her anymore. If he did...well, his pants were fitting rather painfully.

Something about Jean was different from Kelly, however. Well, really, they were completely different. Kelly was a princess, always needing things prim, proper, and exactly as she wanted it. Jean was proper, but she made it her own, adding a bit of her rebellion to the mix. Kelly was water, dull unless created otherwise by outside forces, eventually going back to normal. Jean was fire, making everything her own and doing what she pleased within reason, allowing different levels, from candlelight to a roaring inferno, depending on how she felt. Kelly was white; Jean was red.

He found, for the first time in many years, he loved the color red.

Scott sat back on his bed, putting his head in his hands, which were resting on his knees, wondering what he had been thinking when he had asked for her hand. Sure, it wasn't real, but despite the temporary status, it was still a large step. Scott had never foreseen himself in a position like this...ever.

Now that it had found him, he wasn't sure what he wanted to do, or could do.

* * *

"Jean!" Charles called out to the retreating girl.

She turned, "Yes, Professor?"

"Before you arrived, and before your mother came to the phone, Scott told your father that you and your mother have full reign over the wedding plans," Charles smiled. "I believe it would be nice to thank him for such a courtesy."

Jean nodded and parted ways with her mentor. As she walked up the stairs, she decided to take a detour. She walked down the men's hallway, stopping in front of a door she wasn't sure she even wanted to see.

She knocked with a rap of her fist five times, a knock everyone would soon associate with her.

Scott opened the door, his eyes widening at the unexpected visitor, "Jean!"

She sighed, "I'm sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to thank you truly...for everything. I know I can be a huge bitch, but I really am thankful. Not only for agreeing to marry me, but for what you've given my mother. She may just like you yet."

He stared for a few more moments before clearing his throat, "You're welcome. You're helping me out too, you know?"

"I know, but I'm far more perceptive than people give me credit for, even without the telepathy."

"What do you mean?" his eyes narrowed, warily.

"Calm yourself, hotshot," she rolled her eyes. "I'm just saying that, even though you told me later, I knew you were planning on prison. I also know, this is perception, you were hoping for a quick death in prison."

"How could you possibly know that?" he asked, his voice half angry, half awed.

Jean said sadly over her shoulder as she walked away, "You aren't the only one with death wishes."

That night, a sort of tentative truce fell over the two young mutants. Charles, who had been listening in through Hank's mind, who was also listening, smiled to himself at the peace.

**I'm so sorry! This chapter would have been up sooner, but over the last couple of days, I have come down with a huge allergy attack. I'm very sick, but since I promised one of you wonderful readers, I had to get it up. Please review!**


	10. Scott's Story, Sort of

Jean spent the weekend getting ready to look over wedding plans, which her mother was surely already tearing apart back at home. The only thing she wanted herself, with no say from her mother, was a wedding dress of her choice. Anything else her mother could take control of.

Charles did bring them, Scott and Jean, into the office to talk to them about how prudent it is that they at least try to act like they want to be married.

"What?" Jean asked, not sure she'd heard him right.

"I'm not saying you have to _be _in love, but it might be helpful to act like it. I wouldn't put it past these people to order inspections upon these pairings to make sure that these people "want" to be together, so as no chance for straying from the union. Does that make sense?"

"No," Scott said. "No, it doesn't. They would know that most of us, nearly all of us, are marrying out of force. Hell, they're going to do it themselves if we don't marry those of our choice!"

"And I promise that those unions will be closely monitored. With it being the Genetic Assurance Act, they're going to want to assure themselves that their child's genetics are secure. Twenty-five states have now passed this law, and with only two days left to turn in the paperwork..."

"Speaking of which," Scott cut him off, handing a bunch of papers to Jean. "Fill these out when you have a chance and return them to me, okay?"

Jean nodded, not able to speak.

"Jean, you will go back to school on Monday. It is imperative that you play the part, despite what anyone says. Understand?"

She nodded once more, then a thought struck her, "Hey!"

Before she could finish, he laughed, "Scott may have a temper, but it's nothing compared to yours, which I know from personal experience. I didn't see the need to remind him to control himself."

Scott felt a tiny spark of glee, suppressing the smirk that rose to his lips. Jean glared at him for a moment before walking out of the room.

[BREAK]

Monday mornings, no matter how much sleep she got beforehand, always sucked. She woke up with a groan, quelling her urge to telekinetically toss her alarm out the window, and stood to get ready.

After being suspended for a week, she was refreshed and ready to get around people, preferably of the female sort. She loved Hank, Warren, and the professor (she wouldn't dare think of Scott), but she still missed the company of a female presence.

As she walked downstairs, she barely had time to open the door before Warren threw a granola bar in her face, "You better get to the car. Mr. Summers is in a bad mood today."

Jean groaned again and took off to get to the beautiful vehicle. She plopped in the seat with her backpack and held it on her lap. Scott glared at the food in her hand.

She laughed, unable to help herself, "Do you really think I'm stupid enough to eat in your car?"

He grunted and began to drive, causing her to giggle some more. Scott's car began driving into the teacher parking lot, and more than a few people stared.

They got out in silence and walked inside the building the same way, through the door off his room. Jean sighed. It was quiet, but they could hear the students waiting outside the locked door.

He set his briefcase down on his desk and began to unpack it, "You can go in the office again or wait out here. You just won't be active in any of my classes."

She nodded, "I still think that's stupid, though. I mean, would you really give me better grades based upon personal relation."

A grin quirked the side of his mouth. He had thought often about the same sort of thing, "Nah, but I know many teachers that would...and have."

She sighed again and took the seat Scott had designated hers on her first day. Her laptop was fully charged anyway and, though the battery life had originally sucked, Hank had tinkered with it.

Scott grabbed his keys and walked to unlock the door. He froze for a moment and then turned back to her, "Jean...I just thought I should warn you-"

"I'm sure that more than my fair share of rumors have been running wild in this place. Rumors seem to breed around me," she mused. "Don't worry yourself mentioning it. I already knew. I just want to see if anyone in this school has the balls enough to voice them...well, other than Lamont."

He felt a rush of emotion at her words. Some red hot and furious for wishing provocation of the other students, some concerned for the other students here if they made her angry, but mostly pride. For some reason unknown to him, he felt pride at this girl being willing to handle such harsh criticism and hate.

He smiled as he unlocked the door, and it had nothing to do with standard morning greetings. Many of the students were eager to get to their seats, but some paused when they saw the unfamiliar redhead in a desk near the front of the room. It put them off.

Jean could feel their unease. Fortunately, from Charles working with her and sheer luck, she had been having pretty good days with her powers. She wasn't expecting any problems. She just kept her eyes on her laptop and typed away.

Another teenage girl, a perky brunette, sat next to her and grinned, "Hi! I'm Margaret!"

Jean smiled back, "Jean."

"So..." Margaret looked like she wanted to ask a question, but didn't know how. Jean simply folded her hands and waited.

Eventually, the perky girl just couldn't take it anymore and burst, "Okay, so, I was watching the news yesterday and heard about this stupid law thing for mutants, and I know you're a mutant because I heard from Rebecca who heard from Tristan who heard from Kiesha who heard from Richard who heard from Harry who heard from Lamont that you were, so I just wondered if you had to get married like they say you're going to. That's just terrible, though. I mean, you can't be more than my age and that is young, too young to be married, and to another mutant! I mean, wouldn't you want to escape that world and marry someone normal? Besides that, what's your power? I mean, you have to have something small and useless, otherwise you wouldn't be here, right? Do you know what I mean?"

Jean just blinked at the girl for a moment, not noticing that the rest of the class and Scott had stopped to listen. After a moment she turned her head away, slowly closed the lid of her laptop and blinked back a few tears which had sprung to her eyes.

"Well, are you going to answer me?" Margaret asked, rolling her hazel eyes snottily.

Jean ignored her, picked up her backpack, and stood. Without a word, she walked into Scott's office and shut the door.

Margaret leaned back in her chair, "Well, she's just rude, isn't she?"

The class erupted into giggles and rumors as Scott attempted to calm his temper at the young hazel-eyed student, tossing his pencil which had broken in half in the trash. He taught the lecture in a daze, his mind not really on it. When he sent the class off to work on their own thing, Scott caught Margaret's eye and asked her into the hall.

She groaned and stood dramatically, stomping toward the hall. Scott thanked the heavens that Jean didn't act like that. The class whispered behind them.

He closed the door and turned toward the girl who was leaning against the wall, looking like teenage rebellion personified. It was aggravating to say the least. He rubbed his temple, trying to quell the forming migraine, "Margaret, please enlighten me as to what and who should be at fault in your eyes for what happened, and then I'll tell you if you are correct."

She sighed, "Well, I think Ms. Jean was rather rude to me. I mean, I was only asking a question. Don't we as normal human beings have a right to know about these monsters? I was only asking about her."

"Margaret," he began again. "You cannot tell me that you believe what you did was okay. You ambushed the poor girl with what you hoped would have been an attack. I know you Margaret. You're a good student. Don't mess that up just because you don't like mutants."

"But I don't!" she whined. "I don't want to be around them. I don't want to work with them. I don't want to live with them."

Beyond all reason, Scott began to laugh, "Oh, Ms. Gibson. You have no idea what life is going to be like for you."

He handed her a detention slip, chuckled once more, and walked back into the classroom, leaving Margaret sputtering protests behind him. The class watched as Margaret came inside, looking clearly upset, preceded by a slightly smiling Mr. Summers. It frightened them.

Scott then waited the three minutes to the bell, so the class would be gone, before he followed Jean. He knocked twice and opened the door, seeing Jean's hands poised on the keyboard, ready to type, but frozen with tears falling down her face. He shut the door and came forward, brushing her red hair away from her face and grazed her cheek with his thumb, "Are you alright?"

She shook her head, turning away from him, "No, but I will be. I have no choice."

He thought for a moment, then nodded, standing to leave. She grabbed his wrist, "Why aren't you rubbing it in? You tried to warn me."

"I'm not usually one to add insult to injury, Jean," he smiled sadly. "Despite what you think of me."

She chuckled, "I don't think of you as bad as you seem to believe."

The noise from the classroom began to reach them through the door, and in a room filled with rowdy teens and volatile chemicals, they couldn't finish the conversation. He just gave her an assuring glance which she smiled her acknowledgment of and walked out to continue his job.

[BREAK]

Jean was in a trance, working, working, working, so it makes sense as to why she nearly jumped out of her skin with a startled squeak when Scott nearly slammed a tray of cafeteria lunch near her. Scott laughed outright, causing her to glare, "Sorry. I thought you might be hungry. It's lunchtime and you didn't seem to notice."

Her gaze turned to the so-called food and she was suddenly ravenous, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he chomped on an apple and walked toward her. "What'cha workin' on?"

"I'm nearly finished with my English course," she proclaimed. "Just need to e-mail the teacher so I can take the exam."

He smirked, "Just the English?"

"Well, of course I finished Advanced Government in the suspension."

"Jean Grey, you are certainly something else," he chuckled.

"How so?"

Scott shot her 'the look', "You had three days off of school and the weekend because you were suspended, and your classes are always online so there was no actual work missing, and you spent the free time working on your classes?"

She shrugged, "It was either that or clean my room. Speaking of rooms, something has been plaguing at me for a bit."

He sighed, "You want to know why I have both an apartment and a room at Xavier's?"

Jean nodded.

"It's stupid, really, but don't tell the guys I said so," he began, running his hands through his hair. "It's more of an insurance policy. No matter how many times Charles told me, I refused to believe him. It's a bit of favoritism, since I'm essentially a surrogate son, and a bit of pure Charles, but he told me even if I didn't teach at the Institute later in life, I would always have a room available to me. Obviously, at some point this school is going to get filled, it's inevitable with the growing numbers, so I was afraid eventually that wouldn't be available to me and I would be kicked out. Irrational, but real. He made me that promise and I've had the room ever since. It can come in handy," he noted.

She shook her head, "You've certainly torn that subject to shreds."

"Well, when you've been abandoned and abused as much as I have, it's only natural," Scott glared slightly at her.

She put down her pudding cup and took his hands in hers as an assurance, "I might not get along with you all the time, Scott, but I didn't mean anything by it. Talk to me. I really want to understand."

He looked into her green eyes, a dull grey-brown color mixed with his red haze, and finally sighed, "My parents were killed when I was eight in a plane crash. We had been coming back from a family get together in Alaska, heading back toward Hawaii. My father was a pilot so he had been flying the plane when the back of it caught fire. They said it was a tear in the fuel line near a motor.

"Anyway, my brother and I were thrown out of the plane with the only parachute salvaged from the flames by our mother. As we were dropping, the plane exploded and some of the fiery debris landed on the chute, causing it to catch fire and drop us faster. I landed on my head, trying to take the impact myself and save little Alex. I was in a coma for a year before I woke up and they told me my parents were dead, my brother had been adopted, and that I was going to an orphanage.

"The orphanage was a terrible place. I ran away two years later, at the age of 10, and became a street rat. I've seen things...heard things...done things, none of which I would ever corrupt your ears with, but eventually I was caught, fourteen years old, and shipped to an orphanage in Nebraska, near where I was at the time. I decided to stay and finish high school, which they had helped me out with getting back into, especially after finding about my aptitude for math.

"At the winter formal during my sophomore year, I went to the bathroom to see if I could cool this painful burning behind my eyes. It became unbearable just as a friend of mine, Clyde, walked in. I looked up at him, asking him if he saw anything, and he jumped back, exclaiming that my eyes were red. I had just assumed that they were bloodshot or something, until a huge migraine hit, feeling like it was splitting my skull open, and a beam shot from my eyes and destroyed the bathroom wall, into the girl's, and into the gym where the dance was being held. No one was hurt, apart from me being held in a jail cell that night.

"After nearly a day, a man came to visit me. It was Charles. He explained...everything and took me back to the Institute. I was effectively blind for about three years before Hank, still a genius, worked with Charles and two friends of his named Reed and Tony to make my glasses. Because of that...vulnerability, I guess I've felt I need something secure in my life, some form of control that can't come from my powers. I've always been a control freak, but now it's something more, you know?"

Jean nodded, still absorbing his story, "If you like math so much, why aren't you teaching that?"

"Believe it or not, there were no positions open for a math teacher," he chuckled. "Out of all of that, your only comment is on my career?"

She shrugged, "You're the one who admitted I was 'something else'."

"So I did," he sighed. "I guess I'd better get ready for my next class. It looks like I have three minutes."

Jean nodded, "Thank you...for trusting me with the story."

Scott was shocked for a moment, "I've barely told you anything."

"You didn't tell a lot of detail, but you've provided me with a base of where you come from. Thank you," she repeated.

"You're welcome."

He left feeling a bit lighter in the chest than he was used to, and Jean was already opening a word document, jotting down questions that popped into her head, and they had nothing to do with her coursework.

**This one was more of a filler chapter and Scott's backstory...kind of. I hope you still enjoyed it and are willing to stick around for more.**

**I'm not sure how fast the next update will come. I will attempt one soon, but with everything coming to a fast end at school, I'm being crushed for time. Please forgive me if it takes a bit to get out.**


	11. Planning

"So I was thinking that maybe you would want to have the wedding in the late spring, so everything is in bloom but not soaking wet, if you know what I mean. Think about the photos. Oh, the wedding photos. They would be gorgeous, especially if they were taken on this estate," Elaine Grey cooed as she scribbled into a notebook.

Jean picked her head up from her arms, "Mom, did you ever think that maybe...I might want a say in my wedding? That maybe Scott would want a say?"

"Mm-hmm, that's nice, dear," she murmured to Jean as she was distracted by pictures of flower arrangements.

"_Elaine!"_ John shouted at his wife.

She jumped, "What?"

John took a deep breath, "Our daughter is trying to ask if she could plan her own wedding, and you are completely ignoring her every word."

"Of course she can't plan her own wedding!" Elaine exclaimed, not disputing that she had been ignoring her daughter. "What does she know about weddings? What does she really know about anything?"

Tears filled Jean's emerald eyes and John rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Elaine, just give Jean the planning book. Our daughter is plenty smart enough to plan her own wedding."

Elaine huffed, crossing her arms, "So I get no say in a wedding I never fully agreed to?"

"You don't have to agree with it, Elaine, but it would be nice if you would accept it! Do you understand how Jean must be feeling right now?"

The tears fell down the girl's face, "I don't want to get married, Momma, but I have to. Professor Xavier believes that they will overturn it all soon, but I'm not so sure. I may be married to Scott longer than originally thought. We're not going to enjoy it; we don't exactly get along. Can I at least make sure this wedding is something we both can tolerate? Please, Momma?"

She sighed, "You know I always break at the 'Momma', don't you?"

Jean cheered, jumping up to hug her mom, "Thank you!"

She ran off to begin planning herself, taking all of the items her mom had laid out with her just for good measure, and began planning a wedding she knew she could show up for...and hopefully Scott too.

* * *

"Hey, Scott!" Warren ran over to his friend. "Could I catch a ride with you?"

"Sure. Charles went to go pick up Jean from her parent's house, so I'm free," Scott announced.

Warren grinned, "Great, 'cause we have important matters to discuss."

Scott narrowed his eyes, "Warren..."

"What? A man's bachelor party is a very important topic," the blond winked.

Scott sighed and started up the car, "What in the world do I need a bachelor party for when this isn't even a real marriage?"

Warren looked at him dumbstruck and it made Scott uneasy, "What?"

"You're really gonna give her up when the time comes?" he asked his friend.

"Yeah. What else am I going to do?"

Warren grinned devilishly, "You could always fight for her."

"Why? I don't want her!" Scott exclaimed.

Warren laughed, "Of course you don't, but seriously man, I won't tell anyone...except Hank. Do you like her?"

Scott blushed, a rare occurrence, "No."

"Your severe social anxiety sign showing on your face is also alerting me to the fact that you're lying," he said.

"You have serious mental issues, Warren."

"Ignoring that very good point, it doesn't allude from the fact that you blushed when I asked if you liked her. You like her. Go for her! She's an amazing girl and you know it!"

Scott cast him a sidelong glance, "Isn't this conversation usually reserved for girls?"

"Only in chick flicks."

"Have you been watching those again?"

"No...maybe. They're funny!"

Scott laughed and Warren couldn't help but laugh with him. It was so rare to see the fearless leader relaxed.

Warren sighed, "I only said something 'cause I care about you, dude. You know she's beautiful, smart, witty, and-"

"Okay, Feathers. You've said more than enough of what I signed up to hear when I agreed to drive you. Where do you need to go anyway?" Scott changed the subject, hoping it would make his friend forget about their resident redhead.

"The park," Warren made a face. "My father finally made a decision on who I'm marrying, turned in the paperwork without telling me about it, and we need to start some photo-op time for the businesses."

"Who is she?" he asked.

"Hell if I know! I just hope she's tolerable," he rolled his blue eyes as he got out of the car. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem...Hey, Warren?"

The nineteen year old stuck his head back inside, "Yeah?"

Scott thought for a moment, "Why did you need a ride? You have a car and plenty of gas money."

Warren winked, "Why do you think?"

Scott punched his steering wheel after his friend closed the door laughing, and then began profusely apologizing to the car.

* * *

Jean rolled her stiff neck. She had fussed over wedding plans at her parent's house, in the car, and now in the library(thank General John Logan for ordering memorial day). She liked vacation days, especially at this school where everyone hates her. Now, the darkness was so black outside, she could barely see out the window.

"Rough day?"

She smiled at Scott as he sat down in a chair across from her, "Rather productive, actually."

"Oh?"

"I've finished with the wedding plans. Would you like to take a look?" she handed him a book which looked a bit like a scrapbook.

He accepted it with a bit of caution, but relaxed when he opened the cover. He had to chuckle a little bit. She'd even put in a table of contents, "Organized, are we?"

She blushed, "Only when it comes to things I'm doing. My desk and bedroom are usually organized chaos."

Scott nodded and then grinned, "A January wedding? Isn't that a bit cold?"

"Yes, but I love winter. I didn't know if you did so I put an orange tab at the top meaning subject to change. I also thought it would be a good idea to have one then since it gives everyone enough time to get ready, but gives us some time to get married in case they squeeze the deadline again," Jean explained.

"That's actually extremely smart."

She huffed, "Is that such a surprise?"

His features softened, "No, but I'm ashamed that I didn't think of that. I would have thought you'd want one in the spring to hold it off as long as possible."

"Well, it's not real, right?"

"Right, but it needs to look real."

"Right."

"Speaking of that," he paused a moment to flip the page. "the Professor wants us to go on a vacation after the wedding, a honeymoon of sorts, for appearances sake. Would you mind if I chose the location?"

She waved her hand dismissively, "By all means...just don't tell my mother."

Scott laughed, "I wasn't planning on it."

He continued flipping through, seeing pictures of flowers and food and when he got to the last couple of pages, she snatched it out of his hands, "Hey! What was that for?!"

"I'm not ready for you to see that part yet," Jean admitted, clutching it to her chest.

"And why not?"

"If you must know, those pages contain the ideas for wedding gowns and you're not allowed to see, per traditions orders."

He rolled his eyes, not that she could see, "You do remember that this is a fake marriage, right?"

"Yes, but the tradition never said anything about fake vs. real marriages, and I am not risking bad luck because you wanted to see a bunch of white fabric," she stuck her nose in the air.

"Can't we ever have a conversation that doesn't end in a fight?" he exclaimed.

"We had one the other day, didn't we, concerning your past?" she pointed out.

Scott groaned, "That's not the same! That was a conversation about me and all I was doing was explaining. There was no conversing."

"I'm sure there would have been, had you not had a class!"

"And it would have resulted in a fight, as usual."

"Only if you're being as pessimistic as you are now."

"I'm always pessimistic. It's part of my charm."

She snorted, "I'm sure it's rather effective."

"At what?"

"Charming."

Scott paused for a moment then laughed, "What are you, Ms. Grey?"

She narrowed her eyes and stood, "Human."

"I didn't mean..." he nearly groaned.

She walked out without another word, leaving him alone in the chilly library at night. He slammed his fist onto the table before standing and walking over to one of the cabinets. He opened it and pulled out some scotch, deciding to enjoy the comforts of smooth alcohol for the night, rather than the nightmares that were sure to come if he tried sleeping.

* * *

Scott woke up when a book slammed near his face, the door closing before he had a chance to see who it was. However, the book that lay in front of his crimson eyes told him everything he needed to know.

It was opened to the picture of a wedding dress with a note beside it.

_Seems to me we already have a lifetime of bad luck made for us. Damn genetics. - J_

It was the first time Scott could ever remember waking up from a hangover with a smile, a true smile. Then he felt the pain.

* * *

Jean walked into the kitchen and found Warren whispering with a young woman. She looked to be in her early twenties and had an Asian physique, though Jean was sure she was picking up a distinctly English accent. The most prominent feature of the woman, however, was her vibrant purple hair which fell perfectly to her lower back.

Warren looked up when Jean entered, "Jeannie! Meet Elizabeth Braddock. Betsy, this is Jean Grey."

Betsy looked Jean over and sniffed at her clothing choice, which was an old pair of holey jeans and artfully tie-dyed shirt, "Pleasure."

Jean nodded in her direction then turned her back on the woman to look over her clothing choice discreetly. She didn't see anything wrong.

"Will I see you tomorrow, Betsy?" Warren asked.

"Of course. Goodbye, Warren."

"See ya, Bets."

She smiled at him a genuine, beautiful smile and glared at Jean as she walked out. When she was gone, Jean glanced at Warren confused.

He just grinned, "Meet the future Mrs. Warren Worthington the Third."

"Is she always such a bitch?"

He laughed now, "Only to threats."

"Threats?"

"You are a gorgeous woman living in the same mansion as I while I am in college," Warren sighed. "Betsy is sort of possessive. We clicked right away, something that has never happened to either of us, and she protects what she sees as hers. I haven't had a chance to explain to her who you are yet, so she sees you as a threat."

"You were able to explain Scott, but not me?" she was flabbergasted.

He coughed, "Uh, not exactly. I was going to explain you both together, so it would make it look more like a packaged deal."

"So she could see that I'm not really a threat," Jean exclaimed in excitement, catching on. "Do you think there's a chance she may be...not hostile to me eventually?"

"Betsy is sort of cold to everyone unless she's really close to you, like I'm becoming or her twin, Brian, but I believe there's potential she won't try to fry you with her eyes everytime she walks past you," Warren winked.

Jean poured a glass of orange juice, "So what's her "gift"?"

"She's telepathic."

She nearly dropped the jug, "What the-how many freaking telepaths exist in this world?"

Charles laughed as he came into the room, "Quite a few, Jean, but rest assured that there are many, MANY mutants out there with powers. Telepathy isn't even one of the main ones shared."

She breathed a sigh of relief she hadn't known she was holding. Despite being a telepath herself and being mentored by one for much of her life, she couldn't help but put a strong distrust against telepathy. Not many people had as high of a moral standard as herself or Charles. She only hoped Elizabeth could make that list.

Her ears caught the sound of someone nearly stomping their way down the staircase. Warren and Charles shared a look before Charles shook his head in disapproval. Before Jean could even ask what was going on, Scott came into the room, her planning book under his arm, and a sour look on his face.

She shot Warren a look and the young man vigorously shook his head in what she could only assume meant _DO NOT TALK!_ Jean was sure she could keep her fat mouth shut, but she _really _wanted to know what was going on.

Scott was completely absorbed with taking the last of the coffee in the pot and making more, leaving his black, of course. He collapsed into his designated chair, taking a long drink of his coffee, the scalding temperature meaning nothing to him though Jean flinched. After a few minutes of tense silence, Scott stood, filled up his coffee mug, looked at Jean, and nodded his head toward the door. She grabbed her backpack and followed him.

They were about halfway through the drive to school when she asked, "Are you alright?"

He sighed, running a hand over his face, "I'm fine. I'm just a little hungover."

"Is that really appropriate to bring into a classroom?" she pondered, not meaning to speak out loud.

Scott shot her "the look", which was famous for frying small children without the use of his powers, "Is it really appropriate for you to be commenting on that which does not involve you?"

She snorted, "Are you always this cheerful after a night of drinking?"

"Depends on how much I drink."

Jean thought about that, "Did you drink...because of me?"

He didn't answer.

"Scott...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad. It's just," she groaned. "after spending the day with my mom, who really hates that I'm a mutant, I felt annoyed when you asked me what I was. It's what I can first remember her asking me after we found out what I was, before I went catatonically insane."

Scott nodded, but kept his eyes locked on the road. They walked into the building in silence, the other students already beginning to file in. Jean could hear them talking about her and shook her head rapidly. Something didn't feel right.

She decided to go to the office again, it becoming her little sanctuary when she had to appear at school. Her studies with Hank were going well, but even she could miss the atmosphere of a real school.

However, even after she closed the office door, she could still hear them. That's when she realized the problem. It wasn't their actual voices she was hearing.

It was their thoughts.

Everyone at the Institute had been so distracted by the stupid law that they had completely forgotten why their youngest member was there. Jean clutched her balled fists to her temples and fell to her knees.

_This can't be happening again! Not now! NO!_

The students in Scott's classroom were confused as to why they heard a seemingly familiar voice inside their head's shouting, but none of them commented on it, but continued their conversations. Scott was too busy trying to read a piece of bright paper without grimacing to even notice something was in his head that wasn't supposed to be. There was finally proof he lived with telepaths.

* * *

Scott had been waiting for five minutes before he figured that Jean had just been too caught up in her work to worry about lunch again. After all, this was only the second time this had happened.

However, deep inside of him, he knew something was off. He could just feel it.

He bought them lunch again and brought it back to his classroom, walking a little faster than normal. That feeling in his gut was growing.

Scott grabbed the doorknob and turned, almost not wanting to look. He looked at her chair and immediately knew something was wrong. It was empty.

The room looked empty.

He would have thought she was gone if he had not seen the odd bit of what was obviously red (even though all he saw was red) out of the corner of his eye. There, he saw Jean sitting up against the wall, catatonic once again.

He fell to his knees beside her, dropping her tray in his haste, "Jean! Can you hear me? Do something?"

Scott snapped his fingers and waved a hand in front of her face but she did nothing. This was worst than last time he had seen her like this. Much worse. She was actually catatonic.

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Charles immediately. It only had to ring once.

"Scott? What's wrong?"

"It's Jean. She's...I think she's catatonic."

"Calm down, Scott. What are her symptoms? Do you remember anything that might have happened?"

"No, I...she's seems to have been like this for a while. It looks to be worse than last time. You could actually talk to her last time. She's ignoring everything now."

He heard Charles sigh into the phone, "There's nothing more we can do until she gets back here. I hate to do this, but you have to leave her alone. I am in the middle of a very important conference and cannot get back to the mansion right away. Leave her where she is, do not try to talk to her and DO NOT let any of the students talk to her. If this was influenced by them, we don't want to aggravate that."

"Alright, Professor," Scott shook his head. "Will you be able to do anything for her?"

"Hank and I will check her out when we all get back. I will call him and let him know to come down."

"He was going to come down for Jean's lesson right after school."

"Even better. Just get her to a closed off location and leave her. She will be fine. She's been through worse, I can promise you."

Scott wanted to ask what the worse was, but knew this wasn't the time, "Thank you, Charles."

"Take care of her, Scott."

He hung up. Scott began to clean up the spilled food and shut her inside, feeling awful as he did. What if he was the cause of this? What if he had gotten to her sooner? What if...

So many questions and no more time to ponder. His class was coming in.

"Good afternoon. Take your seats and have your homework ready to pass forward. We will begin our test shortly."

He dumped his own lunch into the trash with Jean's. He suddenly wasn't very hungry.

**What did you think? Please leave a review and let me know! Where do you think Scott is going to take them on their honeymoon? (yes, it's already picked out)**


	12. Falling to Pieces

_Character thoughts_

_**Telepathic speech**_

Normal

**Author's notes**

* * *

Scott drove back to the mansion with the speed of a drag racer, but Jean saw none of it. Scott wasn't sure Jean was seeing anything at all. She sat where he left her, stiff as a statue and every bit as oblivious.

His heart raced as fast as the tires on his car as he sped back to the mansion. _Please be alright, Jean. Please._

The gate had barely opened when he sped through, and if the sound was any indication, he had just scratched the hell out of his car. He pulled up to the mansion as Warren was opening the door.

"The professor said to bring her down to the Danger Room immediately."

Scott picked her up, holding her immobile body close to his chest. He looked into her emerald eyes for a moment, struck once again by how incredibly void her eyes were, even when they remembered to blink. He held her even closer than before, a gesture not missed by Warren who smiled slightly.

As Scott carried her inside, he asked his friend, "What else did Charles say?"

Warren dodged a floating vase. Apparently her telekinesis had started to slip too, "Nothing much. He told me to tell you to bring her down to the Danger Room and to stay with her. He'll be home shortly."

Scott nodded, waiting for Warren to open the elevator to the subbasement. Warren also opened the door to the Danger Room. The air around them was tense with her telekinesis, but with nothing to grab onto, she couldn't be too big of a danger. Still, Scott gave Warren a look, telling him to leave.

The blond nodded and left as soon as he could. Seeing Jean like that, sweet energetic Jeannie with a fiery temper, was heartbreaking to him. He barely knew her and she was his friend.

Warren also knew that she was a hell of a lot more to Scott, even if the stubborn man didn't know it yet.

Scott set the redhead down in the middle of the cold, metal floor and looked into her blank face, "Jean? Can you hear me?"

Silence was her response.

He didn't dare try anything more, so he just crossed his legs to sit across from her and stayed. A year later he would swear from ground to sky that he hadn't been _that_ worried about her. She would only laugh.

Laughter wasn't happening now. It was the farthest thing from either of their minds, but for various reasons. When her telekinesis found nothing obvious to hold onto, it began looking smaller. A couple of pens he had in his pocket, cellphone, and wallet all came out from where they were connected to the young man and began to spin on preordained paths.

He would also swear he wasn't scared to death of her power.

Before he could think, his glasses were lifted from where they sat upon his nose. His stomach dropped out as his eyelids slammed shut, "JEAN!"

Silence.

He felt the soft tugs of telekinesis upon his own being, like a child patting at his arms, ready to lift him into the air. However, the Danger Room doors opened.

_**Jean! You must stop this immediately!**_ Charles demanded with his mental voice.

It was unclear to Scott if she heard him or not, Charles clearly not only talking to Jean but Scott also. His own ears heard everything she had picked up fall to the ground with a clatter.

_**Focus, Jean. You can do this!**_ he reassured her.

Scott heard the motor of Charles' wheelchair before the hand landed on his shoulder, placing his glasses into his hand. Scott placed them on his face, shooting an extremely thankful look at his mentor. Charles just smiled sadly at him.

_**She cannot focus on her own. She is too damaged this time, and I cannot go in after her. Her mind has the potential to be much more powerful than my own, and in its damaged state it is very likely I could get lost.**_

_**What do you want me to do, Charles? **_Scott asked confusedly.

Charles sighed mentally. _**She trusts you.**_

_**No, she doesn't. We fight like cats.**_

_**Fighting doesn't mean lack of trust. It simply means lack of mutuality.**_

Scott thought for a moment. _**You say she trusts me, but what does that have to do with her powers?**_

_**Everything, Scott. Jean has never been very trusting of anyone, even her own family. That has a history to it, but the meaning is the same. She also feels high emotions toward you, whether it be good or bad. I believe that if you were trying to find her, help her, she might sense that and come back to you.**_

_**Why?**_

_**She's lost, not deranged. I'm sure she still remembers the situation somewhere, and her sense of duty is big enough to rival even yours.**_

Scott smiled slightly at that. If what he said was true, it would certainly be an interesting friendship between them. _**What do you want me to do? How do I start?**_

_**First of all, I cannot help you. In fact, my mental and physical presence cannot even be in this room. Simply put, I'm not one of the ones she trusts too completely. **_Charles chuckled mentally. _**Do not get frustrated, Scott. She has her reasons.**_

Scott still felt a tinge of anger. This man had done nothing but good things since he'd met him all those years ago. How the hell could this girl not trust him, especially after everything he'd done for her?

_**She has her reasons. **_he repeated.

Scott sighed. _**When you leave, what do I do?**_

_**Call out to her and be patient.**_

Charles left the Danger Room quicker than Scott expected, but the gravity of the situation was still at hand. Scott knew Jean was powerful, but he had no idea how much, and after today, wasn't sure he wanted to.

Feeling the epitome of awkward, he began talk to her. _**Jean? Are you there?... Can you hear me at all?**_

He waited what felt like hours. _**Jean? Ms. Grey? Jean Elizabeth Grey, can you hear me?**_

_How the hell am I supposed to know if she can even hear me? _Scott thought, already frustrated. _I'm not a telepath. I don't know how to direct my thoughts. I barely know how...to...block them. God damn it!_

He nearly palmed his face in aggravation toward himself as he began lowering his naturally high mental shields. No wonder she couldn't respond to him. _Definitely the embodiment of stupid._

_**Jean?**_

He felt something tickling his mind. It was a strange sensation, but it didn't hurt. Quite the contrary. He began to hear what sounded like a whisper, but he couldn't quite make out what it was.

_**Jean?  
**_

It was louder, but still incomprehensible.

_**Jean?**_

_**Scott?**_

He barely heard it, but it was her. Her voice. Scott nearly shouted with relief.

_**Jean? Are you okay?**_

He thought he heard what sounded like a sob. _**No. I … I'm so lost. It's dark and cold. I'm scared, but I need to stop the heat. It's so powerful. I'm losing it!**_

He didn't know half of what she was saying, and it frightened him. However, he also knew that it must have made sense to her and went with it. _**What is cold, Jean?**_

_**Everything. I'm surrounded with it. It almost feels wet.**_

Clearly something in her mind, otherwise it would have been the Danger Room. He'd hoped for it, but refused to give up quite yet. _**Is it the cold that's dark?**_

_**Yes. **_She sounded relieved, like she thought he understood. _**It's almost like … being trapped in a cave or well or something.**_

A gasp caught in his throat. He'd been in that same position, but in reality. At the age of five, he'd fallen into a well his parents had told him to stay well enough alone from. Being a kid, he hadn't listened and had been stuck in the well, freezing to death, for nearly a day before his parents finally found him. No one knew how he'd survived.

_**Heat? What's hot, Jean?**_

_**Everything in front. I'm holding it back, but it keeps getting closer. It's so strong. I don't know if I can hold it back.**_

_**Why can't you just let it go?**_

_**He told me not to!**_

Scott assumed the he was the professor. _**Can you pull strength from my mind?**_

_**Yes, but that won't last forever!**_

_**What if … can you see the shields I had up and how they were made?**_

She made a sound of affirmation.

_**Do you think you can put up shields just like that one?**_

_**No! They wouldn't last! They never do and it always gets worse. I'm tired. I'm tired of shields and I'm tired of holding it back.**_

_**Then let it go.**_

_**What?**_

_**Let. It. Go.**_

_**But, Charles told me not to.**_

_**Damn it Jeannie! LET IT GO!**_

She did as she was ordered and dropped her mental hands holding it back, and was overcome with the flames of her power. Scott was vaguely aware of his skin being lightly fried, the equivalent of a bad sunburn.

_**Can you still hear me?**_

_**Yes. **_but the sound was barely there.

_**Accept it, Jean. Don't fight the fire. Take it in.**_

He began to laugh, though he had no reason to. He sounded like a moronic zen master.

_**I can't! There's so much! Help me, Scott!**_

_**I will, but you're still fighting it. You have to let yourself accept it. You're powerful, Jean, one of the most powerful women I've ever met. Hell, one of the most powerful **_**people **_**I've ever met. Please, try to accept this!**_

With a cry of frustration, defeat, and anguish, she surrendered herself to the flames. They accepted her like a tentative dog. However, this dog knew who the master was. It let her become the dominant force, conceding its control. It was free. That's what mattered.

However, in another minute, it became her, they became she. Two equaled one and the fire died out.

So did Scott's consciousness.

* * *

Scott finally opened his eyes, for once glad for his glasses. The lights in the infirmary were far too bright. A blue and furry face appeared over his, smiling, "Welcome back, my friend."

With a groan indicating how he felt about being back, he sat up, causing Hank to grin wider, "What the hell happened?"

Hank opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off, "OHMYGOD! SCOTT!"

Jean ran forward and gave him a hug. To say he was slightly confused would be like saying Pearl Harbor had been a training exercise gone wrong.

However, pain shot through his body causing him to gasp and she jumped back, tears in her eyes, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-"

"Jean!" Hank laughed. "Give him a chance to wake up."

She clapped her hands over her mouth and nodded, eyes still wide and tear filled. After a moment of getting his bearings, he remembered, "Are you alright, Jean?"

She nodded, her hands still over her mouth. It would have been comical had she not looked so heartbroken.

"Can you control it?"

"Kinda."

He shrugged, "That's better than nothing. What happened to me, Hank?"

"Well, it seems Ms. Grey has some latent pyrokinesis of some sort and she managed to singe you. You have the equivalent of a really bad sunburn," Hank laughed. "I didn't let Warren down here, you'd never live it down if I did, but you look like your beams."

Jean choked on a giggle.

Scott frowned, "How is that funny?"

Still smiling a bit, but extremely guilty over what happened, she picked up a small mirror and showed him. He looked for a moment and then began to laugh.

Hank chuckled, "How about I give you two a moment?"

Scott nodded and Jean began to look extremely nervous. Scott smiled slightly, "I'm not mad. Don't worry."

He'd patted the bed next to himself and she sat down tentatively, "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm not angry with you," he sighed. "Just don't … do that again, okay?"

She gave him a wry smile, "I'll try."

After a moment of silence, he went back to check his mental shields, attempting to make sure everything was in place, but something felt off, "Uh, Jean?"

She looked even more guilty, "Yes?"

"What is wrong with my head?"

Despite her guilt, she grinned, "Want a list?"

"Seriously, Jeannie, what is this?"

She sighed, "It's a psychic link."

"Oh...WHAT?"

She shrugged, "I didn't mean to put one in place, but Professor Xavier thinks that since I used you as a focus point and I was inside your head, a combination of things happened resulting in a link between our minds."

He was dumbstruck for a moment, "So our minds are permanently connected."

"He said he can try to break it if you want, but he's never done it before. He doesn't know what side effects it could have."

Scott nodded, "So is that … it's like there's a light in my mind and it's bright and warm. Is that your presence?"

"Probably. I feel something similar with you."

"Is that all it is? Like, an early warning system?"

She laughed, "No, but that would be a nice addition, you know, if it were anyone else. It can do that because you will always sense my emotions and I yours. Beware because we could be overloaded by each other's in moments of great emotional distress. However, it also makes it easier for us to communicate telepathically with each other, since you have huge natural shields. Not only that, but you could talk to me as easily as me to you, even though you're not a telepath."

He shot her a look, "Do you think it would benefit your telepathic control if we kept it and worked with it for a bit before he breaks it?"

She looked sheepish and blushed, but stayed uncharacteristically silent. He nearly laughed, "You don't have to be embarrassed, Jean. I asked the question myself with real intent. I guess we'll keep it, unless you want it broken right away."

He didn't add that he also felt it might benefit both of their sanities to be able to reach her if the need arose, "Did anyone explain to you what the lower levels are? I know we've never really talked to you about them..."

She nodded, "I know what Professor Xavier intends to form. However, I also know that it won't work unless you have more people, and not just mutant men."

"You're not a feminist, are you?" he chuckled.

She glared, "Would it truly matter if I was?"

He sighed, "No, and I'm sorry. That was rude."

She thought for a moment and then brightened, "In other news, have you met Hank's intended?"

"She's here?"

"Yep! The government is in a hurry to catch the refusing mutants, so they're just throwing couples together. However, I think this one may actually have worked in our favor," she winked.

He stood up and stretched one more time, "Can I meet her?"

She laughed, "She wanted to come down here with Hank and me, but we just laughed together and she stayed upstairs with the professor, Warren, and Betsy."

"I take it you like her?"

Jean giggled, "Yeah. We could end up being really good friends."

He offered her a hand, "Then let's go see her."

She looked at his hand for a moment, but then shrugged and took it. They walked together out to where the other couples were. Just before they were seen, Jean dropped his hand. Hank was laughing at something the new girl was saying when they walked in.

A young African girl with blindingly white hair walked toward Scott, smiling, "Hello. I'm Ororo Munroe."

"Storm," Warren laughed. "We've named her Storm."

If it would have been four years before, Scott would have asked why, but he was wise enough now to know it was better to find out in time than have the mansion collapse in on them for a simple question. Jean smiled at her, "Did you get all settled in?"

Ororo nodded, "Yep!"

"You've moved in? How long was I out exactly?"

Warren grinned, "Only about five hours, but this is the Xavier Institute."

"So, when were you two planning on getting hitched?"

Hank rolled his eyes, "As soon as we get the paperwork completed, we shall be legally united 'til death do us part."

Ororo took Jean's hand and they ran up the stairs together, laughing like sisters. Scott cast the boys a wary glance, "Please tell me that those two aren't sharing a room."

When they didn't respond, he groaned and left to grade some of his papers, leaving the others to laugh behind him.

Betsy turned to Warren, "Was he holding hands with Jean just before they got in here? I thought you said they hated each other!"

Warren looked curious, "I didn't see them walk in. Hank?"

The blue man shook his head, "Charles?"

Charles simply smiled, "Yes, they were holding hands."

"It doesn't seem like they hate each other as much as they want us to believe, eh?" the blond man enquired.

"Did you really think they'd hate each other permanently?" Hank asked.

"You didn't?"

Charles looked them over, "I trust that you three will leave them alone, right? Whatever friendship they have right now is still tentative, and we don't need you two messing it up, especially given Jean's fragile state of mind."

The two men grumbled their consent and the older man wheeled off. Then Warren smirked.

"Hey, Hank. He never said anything about 'Ro."

* * *

**What'cha think? Sorry this couldn't get out sooner. It's exam week this week and I'm cramming like crazy. I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave me a nice little review!**

**Featured in the next chapter : Ororo talks with Jean and Scott**


	13. Fights and Admissions

_Character thoughts_

_**Telepathic Speech**_

Normal

**Author's Notes**

**ATTENTION!**

**The rating on this story has been raised to 'M' for future chapters. This is for severe language and sexual scenes. If you don't like that I would recommend to stop reading this story.**

* * *

"You want me to do _what_?" Ororo asked, her jaw dropping.

Hank put a hand on her shoulder, "I promise we would never ask anything that was too intrusive. However, we would like to know what is happening with them and what they're feeling. They are, after all, our friends."

Ororo thought for a moment, "I believe I can get Jean to talk, being as we are already close, but I do not know about Scott. Furthermore, I do not feel this is the best thing to do. Should we not just leave them alone?"

"Perhaps," Betsy nodded. "But if there is something coming, something serious, perhaps it is best to know ahead of time. You should know better than anyone here the benefits of anticipating the storm."

Before the white haired woman, only a year older than Jean, could respond, Jean herself walked into the room with a smile, "Only another week of this crap."

"Good luck, kiddo," Hank told her, ruffling her fiery hair a bit.

She swatted at him with a laugh, "It hasn't been that bad."

"Only because you've been holed up in Scott's office. If you actually had to deal with people..." Warren trailed off with a wink.

Jean sighed with a shake of her head and then remember something from the night before, "Hey, when Scott and I came back upstairs, you said you had named 'Ro, Storm. What's up with that?"

The four of them chuckled, "We were bored waiting for you both to come upstairs, so we decided that if we were going to be a superhero team like Charles would like, we aren't going to want to use our real names. The government hasn't exactly approved of a mutant police force and we're not sure they want to."

"So what is your name, Warren?"

Warren grimaced as Betsy laughed. She answered for him, "We sort of named him 'Angel'."

Jean giggled, "Fitting."

He grumbled something about flowery, girly names, causing them all to laugh again. Ororo responded with, "We have also named Hank, 'the Beast'."

He shook his head a bit with a laugh, "I'm not sure exactly what made me agree to it."

But Jean, Warren, and Betsy were pretty sure they knew.

"And you, Betsy?"

She simply smirked, "I've already had a superhero name-"

"Which she refuses to tell us 'why'," Warren interrupted.

"and it's 'Psylocke'."

Jean smiled, "Rather badass."

The woman flipped her purple hair, "You know it, darling."

"Did you decide on anyone else's names?"

Ororo laughed, "We have decided to call Charles 'Professor X', just because it sounds a bit better. Scott is also named 'Cyclops'."

She giggled, "Oh, he'll just love that."

"Who will love what?" Scott asked, coming in the room.

"Speak of the devil and he doth appear," Hank recited, causing everyone else to giggle.

Scott gave them a quick look over and shook his head, deciding it best not to pursue. Jean giggled again, "Did you decide on anything for me yet?"

Ororo shook her head, "We threw some around, but none seemed to … click?"

"Like what?"

Hank held off one of his fingers for each one for emphasis, "Redd? Marvel Girl? Ms. Psyche? "

She must have looked absolutely disgusted by the roars of laughter which quickly followed. Scott grabbed his mug of coffee and gestured toward the door where Jean could see. She nodded, "I'll see you later."

Everyone else made their goodbyes and Betsy smirked at Ororo, "Do you see what we mean?"

Ororo nodded with a smile, "This … this could be fun."

"Not only fun!" Warren exclaimed. "Do you realize that we may have just found the only person capable of pulling the stick out of Slim's ass?"

Needless to say, that made everyone relax just a bit more.

* * *

The drive to the high school was filled with their usual silence, but when Scott turned the car off and Jean grabbed for the door, Scott grabbed her wrist, "Jean?"

"Yeah?" She shot him a curious look.

His voice faltered for a moment before he steeled himself and told her, "Be careful. If you feel anything, anything at all, tell me. If I'm not around or if for some reason God only knows you believe me too busy for you to interrupt what I'm doing, my keys are always in my briefcase. Take the keys and go to my apartment. I'm sure with your memory you'll remember the way."

She nodded, too confused for the moment to say anything more. As he nodded back, all trace of the emotion he had just exhibited gone from his features, he stepped out of the car with her.

"Scott!"

Scott turned back around to look at her.

"Thanks."

The gentle, kind of shy smile he gave her in return left a funny and warm feeling in her stomach for the first and second class periods.

* * *

Jean looked up from her … she guessed it was a salad, to talk to Scott, "Why do you keep eating your lunch with me? I mean, wouldn't you rather eat with the other staff?"

Scott shook his head, "I always ate lunch in my office. The rest of the staff here know about my mutation and they don't always enjoy my company."

"So you'd rather subject yourself to the tortures of teenage companionship rather than attempt to show them that mutants can be just as normally social as they are?" she asked.

"Is 'normally social' even grammatically acceptable?" he asked with a smirk.

Jean took his can of soda away, "Stop avoiding the question, Scott!"

"What do you want me to say?"

"Something honest, for once!"

He looked at her with narrowed eyes, "Have I ever lied to you?"

"That's not what I meant. I meant, tell me the answer wholly truthful, without your usual snark. I'm tired of it, damn it!" Jean slammed her food in the trash and exited the office.

Scott looked at the door for a moment before leaving to follow her. He saw she had left through the door to the outside. He jogged up to her and grabbed her wrist, "What is your problem?"

"My problem? Look in a mirror, Scott!"

Scott gripped her shoulders, "Why am I your problem? What have I done to you?"

"It's more what you haven't done," she confessed.

"I'll ask again, what do you want from me?"

Her eyes glistened, "I want you to talk to me like a normal human being and be open with me!"

"I'm not open with anyone."

"But you can start!"

"No, I can't! You don't understand! I. Can't. Be. Open," he nearly shouted, desperate for her to leave it alone.

She glared at him for a moment before softening a bit, noticing how frightened he looked, "What happened to you?"

Scott was shocked at her abrupt change and didn't answer right away, "Huh?"

"What happened to make you this way? You want to be open, I can see it. Why can't you? What's stopping you?" Jean gripped his wrists in her hands, stepping closer to his body.

He looked at her for a moment longer, allowing himself that small luxury, but then, as his features hardened, he turned and walked back into his classroom just as lunch ended. Jean stomped back into the office and sat down in her chair, fuming. Why the hell wouldn't he just talk to her?

Neither were very focused the rest of the day, instead their minds were on each other. They walked out of the school, not even glancing at each other, and the ride back to the mansion was one filled with tension neither wanted to admit had a sexual edge.

It was obvious when they walked into the mansion that something had happened. Hank was gone with Charles to meet with some up and coming politician, and Betsy had temporarily gone back to England, so the only two left to witness were Warren and Ororo. Warren instantly shied away from the tension.

However, Ororo followed Jean up to their bedroom and slammed the door shut as soon as she crossed the threshold, "Talk!"

Jean jumped, "What?"

Ororo sat on the edge of Jean's bed and grinned, "What is going on?"

Jean shrugged, trying to play innocent, "I don't know-"

"Do not give me that bogus crap, Red. Now, talk!"

She sighed, knowing her new friend could see right through her. It's part of the reason they were friends so fast, "Alright, alright. It's Scott."

Ororo rolled her eyes with a softer smile, "I know that! What about him?"

"Umm, everything?" she laughed. "I don't know exactly, and I don't know how I feel about him either."

"Is it bad? A bad feeling?"

Jean hummed in thought for a moment, "Bad? That would depend on how you would define a bad feeling. Meeting him in person everyday, I realize that there are two people to his persona, but I'm not sure if one is a mask and the other the real Scott or if he isn't sure which person to be, sort of like a bipolar disorder, but more psychotic."

"He seems more like the first one to me," she replied. "I know a thing or two about needing a mask. I have a feeling you do as well."

Jean nodded, "I thought the same, but that also makes me afraid."

"Afraid?"

"Yes, as embarrassing as it is to say. I mean," she ran her hand through her crimson hair. "I know this marriage is fake and we're not going to fall madly in love or anything, but it would be nice to at least be friends with the person I'm marrying fakely, you know?"

Ororo nodded, "I believe the rest of us have been fortunate in that respect. Hank is a very agreeable man and Warren and Betsy are very much alike. However, you and Scott seem to continually be at each other's throats."

Jean groaned, "That's just it. We've actually gotten along at times, very well too. That's why it bugs me so much that he always has that damned mask up."

"Do you have a plan to get him to lower that shield?" Ororo asked.

"No. I don't know him well enough to know what will get to him."

Ororo took Jean's hands in hers and told her sincerely, "Just let him be. If he wants you to be his friend, I trust he will come forward to you at the right time when he is ready. Just make sure you are as ready for him as you claim to be."

Jean gave her a hard look, "Are you a prophetess and a goddess?"

Her friend only grinned and left.

After all, she had another side of the story to learn.

* * *

Scott sat on the foot of his bed, head in his hands as he tried to sort himself out. It would have helped if he would have known where to start. Instead, he was forced to struggle with every part of himself, even the ones he thought he had previously defeated, the demons.

Three knocks in rapid succession sounded at his door, and he stood in a daze to answer it. Thankfully, his shades covered the faintly vacant expression of his eyes from Ororo.

The young woman smiled at Scott, "I do not mean to bother you, but I was wondering if you might have a minute to talk."

He motioned for her to come inside and she did, immediately taking a seat in an armchair near the window. Scott sat back down in the spot he was before, barely suppressing the urge to assume the same position.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Jean."

_NO! Absolutely not! Don't! You can't talk about her! You can't!_ his mind screamed at him, hoping for a small amount of sense to return to his clearly vulnerable mind, but instead his body replied, "What about Jean?"

Ororo sat back, nearly reclining in his chair, before she continued, "I was wondering what you think of her. She is my friend and I do not want her stuck with someone secretly plotting her murder."

Scott nearly chuckled, "I can promise you I'm not in here planning the murder of our resident minor."

"Are you planning anything else for our resident minor?"

His heart skipped a beat, nearly believing she had heard some of his perverted thoughts from earlier, but it never showed, "Other than our wedding?"

Ororo glared at him, "Scott, what do you think of Jean?"

He ran his hand through his hair, artfully messing it up, "Why does it matter? We'll only be faking a romance until the law is thrown out and we divorce."

"Yes, but that could be a long time from now. Just tell me straight up, do you mind pretending to marry Jean."

He was taken aback, "Of course not! I wouldn't have offered if I would have minded."

"Did you offer just so you have a woman to hate on for a bit?" she spat. "Did you know she blames herself for you acting like such a jerk? She believes that she is the reason you can't act like you care about anything."

Scott stood and faced the still sitting woman, "I don't hate her, not at all! You know nothing about me, and if you are such good friends with Jean, why don't you run back to her and reassure her of that instead of sitting in my chair acting like an utter fool."

"How can I reassure her something I do not believe?"

"I don't hate her! I want her to be happy!"

Ororo stood and pushed on his chest, "Why? So you can break her down like all other jerks do to nice girls?"

"I won't break her down! I helped build her up. I wouldn't hurt her like that!"

"WHY?"

"BECAUSE I LOVE HER!"

Scott clamped his mouth shut as redhot embarrassment colored his face. He dropped back down onto the bed and assumed his favorite position. He didn't feel anything like the twenty-three year old he was.

Instead of reprimanding him like Scott had expected her to, she simply smiled and asked, "How long have you known?"

He groaned, "I didn't, exactly. Not until now. I didn't...I couldn't...no. It's not real."

She laughed, "Of course it is real, you silly, stubborn man. Otherwise you would not feel anything."

"You don't think it's wrong?" he asked, looking to her remarkably bright eyes for confirmation.

She shook her head, "Not as long as you truly love her."

His face looked horrified for a moment, "Uh, you're not, um, going to tell her, are you?"

"No, I will not even tell the gossip party downstairs. They can wait until Jean herself knows," Ororo winked.

"Thank you."

She began to walk out the door to leave Scott to process the revelation he'd just had, "Oh, and Scott?"

"Hmm?"

"If you do hurt her, I will kill you myself."

Scott inexplicably grinned as the wooden door shut behind her.

* * *

**So, Scotty finally admitted he's in love and Jean's well on her way. I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter posted. I have a very severe case of writer's block and for a while it looked terminal. Thankfully, after much forcing, I was able to push this chapter out. I hope it's tolerable.**

**Next chapter : I'm not sure yet. Whatever the hell my writer's block allows.**


	14. Meddling Ororo

Now that he had admitted it to himself, not only was he not sure at all how to admit it to anyone else with ears and a heartbeat, but he wasn't sure how he could look at her again. Scott had known for a long time Jean held the potential to be a woman he could love, but he'd stupidly hoped she wouldn't be her. He wasn't ready to love. He wasn't ready to feel much of anything.

The last time he'd loved, he'd been 16. At least, that was the last time he thought he'd been in love. In reality, it hadn't been love as much as it had been a high school status symbol and temporary pleasure.

He laid back on the bed, too lazy and uncaring to change out of his clothing before attempting to relax his mind, a feat not easily accomplished. After all, now that he was thinking about it, he couldn't help thinking back to that last girl he'd thought he'd loved, and the incident that changed it all.

Dance season was in full swing in southern California during his sophomore year and he wasn't ashamed to say that he was as excited as everyone else at the prospect of leaving high school for the summer. It was traditional for their school to host the Rhapsody in Blue prom, which meant everyone would see so many shades of blue, sea sickness was nearly a promise without having to get sand in between anyone's toes.

He was also excited for prom, not just because it marked two weeks until the end of school, but the fact that he, Scott Summers, the semi-awkward orphan, was going to prom with Selina Ki. Selina was one of the most popular girls in the junior class, and she was a cheerleader. However, as nice as that popularity was, and the physical pleasures she could provide after a party, she had a wicked jealous streak.

That jealousy posed a problem on the night of prom. Scott was not only athletic, but extremely smart, which was a rare and wondrous thing to behold in a teenage boy. His intelligence allowed him to tutor other students for a nice, small profit. One of these students was Belinda, a sweet, extremely friendly sophomore who seemed to believe everyone in the universe wanted hugs. Of course, that was back when Scott wasn't afraid of touching.

Belinda had hugged him after a tutoring session after which she was confident she would ace her chemistry test. Selina had been walking around the corner, and took what she saw for a bit more than what it was. Still, she waited three days until they were both at prom to dump him in the middle of the dance floor, leaving him walking to the bathroom feeling more than a little angry.

Well, the rest was history. His powers exploded in the bathroom, just like he had told Jean, and Charles found him.

However, those feelings he had felt toward Selina were absolutely compared to what Jean was doing to him. He remembered the familiar giddy, warm, and fuzzy feelings, but these weren't from an adolescent boy. These were mixed with true emotion, with real love. Oh, sure, there was plenty of lust in there too. Jean was a beautiful young woman, but more than that, he wanted to be sure she loved him. It didn't matter if the marriage was going to be fake, because if he admitted the truth once more, he didn't want it to be.

That frightened him, that he could possibly be dependent on such a thought. Scott dreaded what was coming, even though he knew it was completely inevitable and unstoppable. He hated that he was about to fall head over heels for someone who should have nothing to do with him. He hated that he was about to get hurt.

After all of the time and effort he had put into avoiding any sort of romantic situation, it was about to hit him head on at full force.

* * *

Ororo came back into the bedroom grinning like she'd just been told she was a billionaire and mutants had been gratefully accepted into society. It made Jean wary.

"What?"

Ororo shook her head, "Just leave him be like I told you, and everything will work itself out, I promise."

Jean jumped up, horrified, "What. Did. You. DO?"

Ororo's smile dropped and she held up her hands, "Nothing harmful, I swear it. I just...talked to him. Well, he talked to me and I listened. I was right, by the way. About his mask."

Jean just stared at her friend for another moment and then went back to her bed to continue reading the book she had opened. Ororo stood up silently and left the room, walking down into the kitchen where Warren was seated, looking at the woman expectantly, "Well?"

Ororo grinned again, "I don not know how fast or how slow things will be in coming, but I do know that when they do happen, it will be rather...explosive."

"Do you think it will be for the better or worse in the long run?"

"Better...and worse. It depends what part of it you're looking at. Will it be perfect? No way in hell! Do I believe that they will work themselves out into a state that is perfect for them? Yes."

Warren rolled his eyes and ruffled his wings, "I don't need all of this philosophical bullshit."

"Maybe if you listened to it once in awhile, you and Miss Braddock could find your own perfection."

As Ororo grabbed a bottle of water and walked outside into the garden, Warren was left to think about whether the truth in her words was real or wishful thinking on everyone's part.

* * *

**I hate writing filler chapters as much as I hate reading them, so you're definitely not alone if you hate this chapter...that and this has been written for a couple of weeks and I just couldn't extend it. It seemed too forced to try and make it cohesive. I'm sorry it's so short!**


	15. Graduation

**A huge thank you shout out goes to XXdarkphoenixXX who reviewed last chapter.**

* * *

Jean looked at herself in the mirror dressed in a hideous burgundy cap and gown with golden accents. She was sure no one at the school cared about how the students would look on graduation day when picking out school colors. To make matters worse, her red hair clashed horribly with the outfit.

"Are you ready to go?" Ororo asked, leaning against the door with a smile.

Jean shot her a glare evil enough to cause brain damage to small children and animals, but her friend seemed oblivious. To further that feeling, she laughed, "C'mon, Red. Everyone else is already there, and I think you parents have more than a couple pictures to take."

She froze, "My parents?"

"You didn't really think they wouldn't be at your graduation, did you?" In fact, with all of the other chaos in her life, she had forgotten they existed.

The drive to the high school was a blur she was glad to forget. The moment she got out of the car, she smiled into one of her dad's bear hugs, "DADDY!"

John Grey laughed loudly, "Hiya Pumpkin! You know, people still don't believe you're daddy's little girl."

Jean giggled, "They're just jealous."

Elaine Grey moved in for a hug, which was accepted as politely as possible from her daughter, "Professor Xavier and the rest of your friends are already seated. We'll be here after the ceremony, and then we're all going back to the Institute. You don't have to stay around these other students any longer than required if you don't want to."

Jean gave her mother a very grateful look as she walked away to take her place amongst the student body. With all of the looks she was getting from the students surrounding her, she was obviously hated. All she was required to do, other than walking respectfully across the stage, was keep herself sane long enough to get away. She would forever thank her mother for that small consideration.

She took her seat in between two students she had never met, but who clearly seemed to know who she was by the hostile atmosphere surrounding their mental presence.

_Freak...Mutant...Why is she...not supposed to be...hair that color...her shoes are weird_

But as her control began to slip, it wasn't just the thoughts being practically projected at her she began to hear.

_The electric bill is too...where is that dry cleaning stub?...long before we start?...so damned tired and sore...my wife will kill..._

Her hands slowly rose to her temples as her eyes squeezed shut and she began to crouch into herself again.

_**Focus Jean. You can control this. Just focus.**_

No matter how much Charles tried to help, the thoughts just kept coming, consuming her. It struck her as odd how unpredictable telepathy was, how it seemed to pop up out of nowhere. Soon she wouldn't be able to hear her own thoughts, much less sort out anyone else's.

_**Jean.**_

It was a new voice, a voice not always enjoyed, but what seemed like a paradise in the crowd.

Scott focused on Jean's mind, trying to project his thoughts to her for her to focus on.

_**Come back, Jean. Please. Come back to me.**_

She heard him, only him, the voices becoming murmurs and then a buzz at the back of her mind as she clung to his mind like the lifeline it really was.

Her body slowly relaxed. She turned in her seat to look at where the teachers were sitting and flashed Scott a small smile of gratitude. He smiled back.

As ceremonies usually go, it was boring as hell with not much different from any other of the hundreds of graduation ceremonies happening around the country at that very moment. Jean once again let it all fade into the background, if only to help keep herself sane. She only started paying attention when the reading of the names began, but just barely.

"Adam Grennan...Marcia Gresswell...Thomas Gresswell...Jean Grey..."

The applause that followed her shaky steps up to receive her diploma was thunderous, almost making up for the fact that neither the principal nor the dean of students would shake her "filthy, mutant" hand as she finished walking. As she took the three steps down from the stage, a grin broke across her face.

She was done with high school. She would never have to come back. She could stay at the Institute until college.

Until marriage...

* * *

Back at the Institute, after managing to steal her away from the conversation for a bit, Scott took Jean into a private corner of the room, "Are you alright?"

She tried nodding, but the tassel fell off of her cap with hit her in the eye. Making a frustrated (and adorable is Scott was any judge) squeal, she threw her cap on the ground and looked like an angry pirate with one closed eye, "I'm not now. That thing hurts when it hits your cornea!"

He snorted, "Not exactly what I meant."

"I know," she sighed and looked up at him, trying to find his eyes through his crimson shades. "Thank you. I don't know if I would have made it through the ceremony without your help. I just have one question though."

Scott held up his hand, "I won't remove the link. If it can help you that much, as long as you're still getting your telepathic bearings, I won't remove it."

She grinned and hugged him. He winced slightly and she laughed, "Do you just not like to be hugged or does that 'really bad sunburn' still hurt?"

"Both."

Jean looked sad for a moment and it took him just as long to realize what he said, "I didn't mean...Red, you can hug me whenever you want."

She smiled at him again, the truest smile he had ever seen her give and it was all for him as she turned and went back to her overjoyed parents. He walked out onto the terrace outside and leaned against the wall, away from prying eyes. Warren was right.

He had no idea how in the hell he was going to give her up when the time came, and if it came down to it, he knew he would fight for her.

* * *

Jean was actually ashamed of herself, the way her thoughts were going. Unknown to her, they were the same direction the thoughts of her betrothed were going not too long ago.

She was seventeen! She couldn't be in love! Didn't Romeo and Juliet prove that people that young just couldn't make wise decisions about love?

That in and of itself scared her. She was already considering herself to be falling in love fast with this man. The next few months were certainly going to be interesting, if nothing else.

Her parents eventually made their goodbyes and left for upstate New York, John had a meeting in the morning he most certainly couldn't be late for in Elaine's words, and that left the rest of them to enjoy themselves and prepare for the marriages to test all others.

* * *

**I guess I sort of lost track of where this story was going to go, but I'm trying my hardest, I promise. Please leave a review and let me know what you think of the latest developments.**

**Next up : a summer union and autumn wedding...sort of**


	16. Two Weddings Down

**As usual, thank you so much to my lovely reviewers from the last time I posted a chapter : cy1995, XXdarkphoenixXX, Mackayo, and jannika1990. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter.**

"I am just not sure that an actual wedding is what we should be having," Ororo told Jean, confiding in her friend.

Jean nodded, "Hank mentioned something along the same lines to Warren. If you don't want to have a wedding and don't have a need to, why not just go down to the local courthouse with all of the other mutant couples and get hitched?"

Ororo sighed, "Is it really okay?"

Jean laughed, "'Ro, do you really think these marriages are going to last forever. Charles said it himself, it's just a safety precaution until it's all overruled."

"I guess you are right," Ororo grinned. "I guess it is time to get married. It is too bad you did not let anyone know about your birthday."

Jean shushed her with a glare, hoping to the heavens that Charles hadn't heard that thought, "They don't need to know that I turned one year older. The next time they look at some records somewhere, they'll see I'm 18 and it'll be done."

"Do you not want anything for your birthday. They'd barely known me for a week and still they gave me some beautiful gifts, yourself included!" Ororo told her, pushing her playfully on the shoulder.

Jean laughed, "I just don't think the attention should be on me at the moment, and I always hated birthdays. Recognition for living another year?"

"It's not exactly a feat easily accomplished," Ororo pointed out. "Especially for people like us."

"True, but maybe if we focused more on the problems than on a birthday party, other people could see their next birthday," she sighed.

Ororo groaned, "Enough with the heavy. Let's do something fun!"

"No! You have to go and talk to Hank about the wedding!" Jean said, pushing Ororo off the bed they were sitting on and out the door.

Ororo rolled her eyes but was laughing too hard for it to be effective, "Alright, alright. I'm going."

Jean managed to push Ororo, not without her help, all the way down the hall to the stairs where they giggled like pre-teens the whole way. Scott leaned against the wall across the staircase and raised a brow, "Murder or assisted suicide?"

"Hmm...I'm not sure. I mean, Ororo _did_ steal my pink hibiscus flip flops," Jean pretended to think for a moment. "But I think this was more euthanasia. She knows she's not that great of a catch for the Great McCoy."

Scott snorted as they heard Ororo's musical laughter from the kitchen, "Sounds like she agrees."

"Wholeheartedly."

They shared a chuckle and walked their separate ways. A few days later, Ororo and Hank came back from what was supposed to be a simple grocery run with arms full of food and fingers encircled with silver and, in Ororo's case, a gorgeous diamond.

Jean gasped, "What happened to a simple 'can you pick up a bottle of raspberry shampoo for me?'"

The newlyweds shared a look, "We just decided to get it out of the way, as little fuss as possible."

"Great," Jean smiled and then frowned with a dark look. "Can I have my shampoo so I can take a shower...please?"

Everyone laughed as Ororo chucked the bottle at Jean's chest. Charles grinned from his wheelchair in the doorway of his office. His family, his X-men, were coming together just fine.

* * *

Jean rolled her eyes at her white haired friend, "You look fine, Ororo."

"Easy for you to say," Ororo grinned. "Everyone loves a pretty redhead."

Jean giggled, "Not like they love you."

"Want to bet on that?"

"No!" Jean shouted, remembering the last time she had thought to bet against the weather witch. She had lost her favorite sweater and twenty dollars, and that was only because Ororo didn't want to take everything else she had won from her friend. However, she destroyed the men and it was hilarious to watch.

"You should not play poker if you are not willing to pay your dues," Ororo pointed out.

"And this is why I will never become a professional gambler," Jean sighed. "I guess we better get downstairs, huh?"

"I think Warren would beat us to death with his wings if we dared miss his wedding."

Jean turned to her friend, "Oh, how are things with you and Hank?"

The older woman blushed, "They're good."

Jean gasped, "You're not?!"

"Let us just go downstairs and forget this whole thing, or I'll begin questioning exactly what you and Scott were talking about in the library last night."

That shut Jean up.

It had been almost four months since Ororo and Hank's marriage began and Warren and Betsy's marriage was ready to begin. Their families had pulled out all of the stops, readying for this union which would not only help their children, but their business which was always the top priority.

The women walked down the stairs together to the foyer where Charles, Scott, and Hank were waiting for them to come down so they could all set off for the wedding some two hours away.

Jean was a bit ashamed to admit that Scott looked rather dashing in his suit and shades. One would think that it would look a bit strange, but it made him look a bit like a more sophisticated man in black, and the fact that the wedding was being held outdoors didn't hurt a cover story any.

Still, Jean had been noticing with more time spent with him, whether it be the silent type reading in the library, the loud arguing they did even more rarely now, or the active conversation that was becoming their norm, he was more attractive than on the surface, which was gorgeous.

Meanwhile, Scott was standing at the bottom of the stairs, thanking God that his shades hid his emotions so effectively. Well, it also helped that Jean was so preoccupied trying not to fall in her heels. She was still young and not as graceful as her friend, though he had no doubt she would become so in time. God help him if he ever got to see it.

Ororo looked gorgeous in her dark purple gown, perfect for the black tie affair but it was Jean who captured his attention so completely that he missed almost all of the more specific details of Ororo's chosen attire.

Jean was dressed in a dark blue cocktail dress which accented her long legs, pale skin, and fiery hair. With Ororo, he couldn't see what she was wearing from typical disinterest and Jean's presence. With Jean, it was due to sensory overload. She was beautiful. He felt those similar feelings in his chest which he had begun to think of like an ever present friend stirring again. It made him giddy, though he would never show it.

Charles had wheeled himself outside as the women had rounded the corner, and Hank immediately offered his arm and took Ororo outside. Scott stayed inside as Jean stood in front of him, as nervous as he had been the night of his prom.

He cleared his throat, "You look beautiful."

She grinned, "Thank you. You don't look so bad either."

It held her usual teasing tone and he was glad for it. She smiled, "So how long do you think we'll have to be in the reception after the wedding before we can take off and go home?"

"Knowing Warren and Elizabeth? We'll be there all night."

Jean groaned, "Then let's get this over with."

Scott chuckled and followed her out the door.

The drive was long, as was to be expected, and a bit boring as everyone dreaded getting out of the car. The only reason they had been invited was by Warren's insistence and Betsy standing beside Warren's decision as long as they behaved themselves, to which everyone had laughed.

They drove into a parking space they were directed to beyond the flash of paparazzi bulbs and microphones. They all knew how crucial this moment was, Hank and Ororo obviously sticking out as mutants due to their looks, Scott could be quickly associated by his shades and then they could all be implicated. The fact that the press understand that they were no threat, that mutants were no threat, was no less important than ever.

They found their seats among the absolute crowd of people they still managed to stick out in. Warren was standing near the back doors, looking as bored as a teen in calculus, but brightened when he saw his X-family.

"Save me!" he gasped out dramatically as he walked toward his friends. "I don't know how much more of this I can take!"

"So you don't wish to marry Ms. Braddock-soon-to-be-Worthington?" Hank asked.

The blonde rolled his eyes, "That's got to be the only tolerable thing coming out of this hell today. I hope it's not too bad for all of you."

"Does that mean we can actually leave?" Jean raised a brow.

He smirked, "Of course not, but I have to sound nice, right?"

Everyone laughed together and Warren stalked off reluctantly to find more press to cozy up to. The five seated mutants began with small talk, but it eventually progressed to Jean and Scott's wedding, which the two aforementioned refused to reveal the details to, much to Ororo's ire.

"Come on! Can't you at least tell me _something?_" she asked, directing her question to Jean.

Jean shook her head, "No can do, and don't even try to break me. If I can resist my mother, I can resist you."

Ororo huffed and sat back in her seat, looking arrogant and poised along with 94% of the rest of the wedding crowd. When Scott picked up that thought from his betrothed's mind, he choked on a laugh.

The wedding began right on schedule, not that they would have had it any less, and was boring, textbook, and everything except the growing love the bride and groom were finding was fake. That, at least, was real.

The wedding reception was as boring and plain as the wedding ceremony had been. Jean felt like she had being four years old at her cousin Deirdre's wedding. Though that one had been less formal, to the young Jean, it had been nearly the same.

Eventually, when most of the other wedding guests cleared out armed with lame excuses, made up appointments, and words of fictitious kindness, Charles pointed out to the rest that it was time to make their leave. Warren grinned giving them their goodbyes, something he hadn't felt up to doing for the rest, and even hugged Ororo and Jean.

They made their way back to the Institute, the horrid afternoon nearly forgotten as a scary thought emerged within Jean's mind. The next wedding she would be attending would be her own.

**And with that, I leave this off until...well, I haven't figured that out yet, but stay tuned for Chapter 16 and please review this one!**


	17. Counting Down

**Thank you so very much to jannika1990 and Ray for reviewing last chapter. You all have no idea (or maybe you do) how much it means to see that in my inbox in the morning. Thank you so very, very much.**

Jean opened her eyes into sunlight streaming in through her bedroom windows, judging by the brightness that it was about 11:00. Thank God it was a Saturday.

Jean had decided, much to the loud protests of her mother and father, to take a year off of school until she learns better control, at least with her telepathy, and mutants find some sort of stable grounding. It disturbs her to not be able to go to medical school right away as she had planned, but she was planning on taking the fast track medical course, so she could be done in less time.

All in all, she was confident she would be just fine.

Well, that is discluding her marriage. Her felt like vomiting every time she and marriage were at all mentioned, which was increasingly often since the wedding was fast approaching.

Scott was an entirely different matter in and of himself. More often now when thinking of him, she felt like an idiot. That is, an idiot for this crush on him, though a rather annoying part of the back of her mind pointed out that perhaps it was more than a crush.

She ignored it all, stretched, and walked into the bathroom down the hall to take a shower and groaned, looking at her reflection in a mirror.

It was a bad habit on her part, but given her critical childhood, Jean had become overly critical of her image. Her addiction to critiquing herself every time she looked in a mirror was horrifying. The fact she knew it was wrong couldn't help her case any.

The stress of the loud buzzing of minds in her head, her parents (especially Elaine) pressing down on her, her crush on Scott, the upcoming wedding, and a million other things affecting her, she found a few strands of her hair turning a light grey at the root.

She only closed her eyes and groaned once more, realizing that going to medical school probably wasn't going to help her cosmetic problem any.

* * *

Scott read the same sentence for an eleventh time, hoping this time he would catch the meaning behind it. No such luck.

Much as Jean had taken the year off of school, Scott had taken a year off from teaching, doing odd jobs for Charles whenever he needed it. Charles didn't want his best X-man, and surrogate son, to be in a particularly dangerous situation with such an equally dangerous and obvious mutation. Scott's hate for sitting around the mansion wasn't worth the risk, especially when being caught could not only affect him but his pretend betrothed.

Still, Scott found most of his pleasure in the library, trying to pretend the outside world didn't exist. It was an arrangement that failed more often than worked, but he still tried, determined not to think about Jean Grey more than which was appropriate.

Failure was becoming Scott's defining attribute.

At twenty-three years old, he had never felt close to being in love, though he'd had strong feelings toward women...girls. They hadn't been women. Still, he wasn't sure if what he was feeling was love.

Oh, who was he trying to kid? Was he really playing the 'if I tell myself enough…?' game? He was in love with a beautiful, intelligent, and entirely too ambitious eighteen-year-old redheaded telepathic mutant and that was that.

Shit, he needed a drink.

* * *

A week before the wedding finally came, and it was more of a stress on the two. Jean hated herself for acting so self-centered, but a part of her felt she deserved it. The government was already telling her she was forced to marry her teacher. Why the hell should she feel bad about only thinking about it?

Ororo understood and tried to help her friend out as much as possible. Jean finally threw her book near the floor of the bookshelf they had once shared (Ororo had moved in with Hank when married to maintain the image) and said, "Distract me woman! I'm freaking out here!"

Ororo grinned, "It will be fine. You will see."

Jean rolled onto her back and looked at Ororo upside down, "How? We're not exactly you and Hank with the whole 'friends with benefits' thing going. I don't think either of us would ever be into that sort of thing either."

"No, but maybe, just maybe, if you are a little more bold, you could find that something even better than friends with benefits could come out of this little arrangement."

Jean stuck her tongue out, "Impossible. You're just an optimist."

"So were you before it hit the seven day countdown."

Jean groaned, "Why did you remind me?"

Ororo just laughed and went back to her own book.

* * *

Scott had finally moved on to chapter 15 of the 17 chapter book he was reading, after two days of trying, when there was a knock on the library door, "Come in."

The door opened and Jean stepped through, shooting him a small smile, "Hi."

"Hi."

"Could I ask you a question...about the wedding? Well, after the wedding, but still related."

He grinned, "Still dying to know where I decided on for the honeymoon, eh?"

She glared at him causing him to laugh, "Don't laugh at me! I don't-"

"like being in the dark. Yeah, I got that part. Why does it even matter, Jean? This whole thing is fake and you're getting a free vacation. The honeymoon-"

"is just for confirmation," she rolled her eyes. "I'm not stupid."

"That was never what I meant to imply," Scott motioned for her to sit down. "If you must know, I own a small home, passed down through family, in Alaska. I've been wanting to go back, so that was where I was planning on heading for the "vacation". Will that be a problem?"

She grinned, "Absolutely not."

"Good," he winked at her though it took her a minute to catch it. "Can I get back to my book now?"

"Yes, Mr. Summers," she teased, giving him a light kiss on the cheek on her way out the door once more.

While she was walking down the hall, burning from embarrassment over what she had done, Scott was grinning like a fool as the spot where her lips had touched burned with desire along with the rest of his body.

At least he had crossed one fight off of the potential checklist. She didn't hate Alaska. That was a start.

* * *

[BREAK]

It was the day before the wedding.

To say Jean was nervous would be like saying the Titanic was a toy boat or a tornado is a little wind. In other words, it would be very, very stupid.

And lethal, unless your name is Elaine Grey.

Jean wouldn't do or say anything to her mother. She just ground her teeth, stood in the center of the round room and let her mom get her ready for her wedding. If her mom was making this much of a fuss about a fake wedding, she dreaded the day she got married for real.

If ever. This day was seriously making her reconsider all of her dreams of a prince and white wedding. Now she just wanted to relax...in Alaska...with Scott.

Jean forgot how much of a pain it could be to try to make sure everything was perfect, especially her dress. Her mom was crazy about the dress and making sure it was perfect.

Meanwhile, Hank, Ororo, Charles, Scott, and John Grey were all enjoying themselves and laughing at Jean's expense, knowing exactly what was happening to the young woman. However, Scott was acutely aware that in a matter of hours, that same young woman would be bearing his name for a time of which length no one knew.

**Shitty filler, I know, but the wedding day will be all of the next chapter (it may be a short one) and the honeymoon will be the one after that. I hate this chapter so much I almost named it 'Crappy Filler Chapter'. Please review if you can!**


	18. Just Married

**Thank you so VERY much to jannika1990, LuizaMartins, and Kristina. Your reviews made me smile! See : =D**

Scott woke up the next morning to his alarm blaring at 5:30, his usual get up time. This morning was different for many reasons relating to the obvious cause. Instead of immediately getting up and walking to the bathroom to relieve himself, he just lay there for ten minutes, thinking of how in the hell he was going to make it through the day.

For once, though she was still there in part, Jean was not at the forefront of his thoughts. It was his damn nervousness he would never admit to which was.

Finally, he stood and walked himself to the bathroom, deciding that he was going to pretend in any way he could, without forgetting the purpose of the day, that it was a normal day. Perhaps then he could actually show up to the ceremony.

Down the hall, Elaine Grey was banging on her daughter's bedroom door, "Get up, young lady! If you don't get up, I will come in and drag you outside. There's a nice lake outside. How would you feel about forced swimming?"

Jean groaned and telekinetically unlocked and opened the door for her mom while throwing a pillow over her head, "ffmm mmrrr mmmnnnsss, ppppssss."

Elaine rolled her eyes, "Jean, please do try and act like a lady for just one day. Now, can you please pick your lazy head out from under that pillow and talk to me like a human being."

"Five more minutes, please."

Elaine grabbed the bottle of water Jean kept on her nightstand, opened it, and tossed it on her, "IIIIIIIEEEEEEEE!"

Ororo laughed from the doorway, "You should have gotten up, Jean. I was about to create a rain shower above your bed. Good luck drying the mattress then."

Jean glared and flipped her friend off, which only made her laugh harder and earned Jean a slap to the back of the head, "Jean, go and take a shower. Make it quick but thorough, please. The wedding is at seven o'clock tonight! We don't have all day."

Ororo glanced at all of the product and accessories laying out on the table, preventing herself from correcting the older woman that they did have all day, "Mrs. Grey, Jean still looks rather young in the face. How are you going to make her into a woman with simple product?"

Elaine smirked and picked up a brush, "If I can train her to _act _like a lady, I can sure as sin make her _look_ like a lady."

Ororo was immensely glad Elaine wasn't her mother.

* * *

At 7:00 that morning, Scott found himself fighting the urge to punch Warren square in the jaw. Hank helped him out by smashing him with his palm on top of the head, "Will you cut out your giggling? You sound like a pubescent girl at a boy band concert."

Warren rubbed the top of his head with a grin no level of bodily harm could rip off, "But Hank, did you really ever picture Scotty boy getting married, even if fake?"

"Yes, in fact, I did. To someone much like the one waiting upstairs for him, if I do say so myself," Hank replied, adjusting the newspaper in his hands.

Scott nearly dropped his coffee, "What?"

"You heard."

Scott abruptly stood and left the room, not wanting to discuss anything involving Jean just yet...if ever. Warren glanced at Hank, "Were you serious or just being nice?"

"Oh no, I was perfectly serious. You said it yourself if I remember correctly that we 'may have just found the only person capable of pulling the stick out of Slim's ass'? Were _you _being serious?"

"Not like you are," Warren shook his head. "I have no doubt that Jeannie is capable, but she also has to want to. I can't see her wanting to be stuck with someone as difficult as Scott."

"You are either overestimating her skills, underestimating her relationship to Scott, or belittling Scott far too much compared to what he deserves. Just wait and see. Mark my words, this will not be easy but something will come out of this. It may not last or be perfect, but it will," he then turned back to his paper.

Warren smirked, "Do you just like Scotty that much or did you have a white-haired weather witch in mind?"

Hank blushed beneath his blue fur.

* * *

John flinched when another squeal sounded from the top of the stairs, "As much as I love my daughter, I'm not sure I want to know what Elaine is doing to her."

Charles smiled, "I'm sure Jean is dishing out in words what Elaine is with her hands."

"That sounds like her. Say, how is Jean coming with her...mutation?" John asked casually, as they sipped tea in the library, watching hired hands perfect the snow covered gazebo Jean and Scott were to be married under.

"She's progressing," Charles hesitated. "I fear I may have underestimated your daughter's power."

"What do you mean?"

"Jean is an immensely powerful telepath and telekinetic, but not only could she have some underlying smaller mutations, but she could also potentially pass me vastly with her power. Unfortunately, I was gifted natural control over mine. Jean is not so fortunate."

John set his cup down, eyes wide with fear for his child, "Is there anything we can do to help her?"

Charles shook his head, "Most of the work has to come from Jean herself. I can act as a guide and help her through it, but like most forms of teaching, the student has to take it upon themselves to get the job done. She also has another teacher and building block, in a sense."

"Who?"

"Me," Scott announced, coming in from the doorway. "Have you been told about the psychic link?"

John frowned, "Vaguely. I was told one was put in place accidentally, but neither what it exactly is or who with."

"I'm afraid the psychic link is with me. I assure you it was not meant to be put in place, but things can happen, as we found out unfortunately," Scott sat down across from his future bride's father. "It can be used for a variety of things which we've only touched on, afraid to do much more than that, but we've been using it as a sort of early warning system. If she starts losing it, she can use me to find her way back to herself."

"That sounds dangerous," John stated.

Charles nodded, "It has the potential to be if not put in place correctly, but they are both responsible enough and the link is strong enough that it shouldn't be a problem."

John refrained from commenting on the lack of privacy, "I would, uh, suggest we don't tell Elaine about this."

"That's probably a good idea...for all of our sakes," Charles agreed.

* * *

"Stop it!" Jean shouted. "That hurts! Will not having one bobbypin really matter?"

"Yes, now stop complaining," Elaine swatted at her daughter's hands and placed the final piece. "Perfect."

"Are we done?" Jean hoped.

"With your hair, yes."

She groaned and Ororo placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "It will be okay, Jean. Be glad I talked your mother down from the face painting she wanted to do. You wouldn't have been you."

Jean shot her a thankful look and prepared to be painted anyway. To her surprise, it was simple nude tones and light pinks.

All mirrors had been covered to prevent Jean from seeing herself before the final unveiling before the wedding. They wanted Jean to see herself as more than the weak girl she thought of herself as, especially when being forced into marriage.

At 6:15, the chatter of the guests floated up to them. Jean was sure she could count the ones she knew personally within the span of her two hands, maybe toes if the few relatives who cared about her showed up.

Ororo fit Jean into her dress, which was a tight squeeze Jean would never find within herself to forgive her mother for, and put her shoes on her friend since Jean doubted she could bend in any direction until the material gave even a little.

Elaine walked in, grinning from chatting with friends and stopped dead in her tracks, promptly bursting into an embarrassing flurry of tears all over her daughter. Jean fiercely resisted the urge to roll her eyes and sent Ororo a look of...she didn't even know what, but still still gave it.

Ororo smiled softly and took the cover off of the full length mirror in the room. Jean's green eyes widened in shock and she whispered, "Who's that?"

"You, silly," Ororo laughed.

"Uh-uh. She's…" Jean was about to say beautiful but couldn't. She looked, well, grown up. It was a little strange. She didn't look like a highschool student at the moment. She looked like Jean. A mature Jean.

It was a sight that didn't sit well with her, but she was sure she wasn't the first bride to feel that way, especially with all of these sudden marriages. Damn that law. Damn it to hell.

Elaine left the room, gasping something around her tears about needing to greet guests or something, and left the two girls alone. Just before Ororo left to join Jean's mom, Jean turned and asked, "What do you think?"

The redhead sounded like an insecure adolescent, which she still was in a few ways. She simply grinned, "He doesn't stand a chance. Oh! And you have five minutes before you need to come down."

The door was shut before Jean could even open her mouth to reply.

* * *

The wedding began.

It was painfully textbook, but there really wasn't much else to do with a traditional wedding unless it was to be a spectacle. That wasn't what either of them wanted, especially when trying to avoid attention as much as possible, so traditional was the route that had been taken.

The wedding colors were white and a touch of maroon here and there to add some color and warmth to the winter wedding. Though the wedding was being held outside, the air was mysteriously warm all of a sudden when the wedding began, with the knowing friends shooting grateful smiles to the resident weather witch.

Ribbons on chairs had been eliminated, but in the area of the mansion where everyone would move for the reception, there were tasteful decorations galore, still within the color scheme. The music was basic, boring piano that had everyone yawning in varying degrees of discretion.

When Jean rounded the corner, her face pasty white from nerves, though given color from the make-up her mom had insisted upon, the typical bridal song began to play. There was no wedding party, neither having anyone to really stand for them who they were close to, so she walked down alone.

The sobs of her mom grew louder, though Jean was pretty sure it was for dramatic effect than anything, and she sped up, wanting this wedding over with. Scott resisted laughing at the temperament of her mind, but was struck by her look. Now she looked like the woman he had conversations with late at night in the library when they were trying to forget that they were going to be wed in the coming days, weeks, months.

Hank elbowed Warren and nodded his head toward Scott. Warren snickered, again like a little kid, but still respected his friend however slightly. Oh, Scotty would be paying in words for the look on his face, but it would be years from now over New Year's beer.

The wedding ceremony itself passed in a blur for all present, no one focusing on the words as much as the growling in their stomachs and slow ache in their behinds from sitting in uncomfortable chairs for so long. However, everyone present, except for those familiar with the Xavier estate, were struck by the simple beauty of the winter wonderland hidden from most eyes.

The vows were simple and repeated from thousands of weddings before it and Jean was shaken from her daze when it was all over and they walked in to eat. Many people tried to talk to her, but given the lack of sleep she'd had the past week, the thoughts were what she heard more of.

_**Jean. Are you okay?**_

She shook her head, but as an answer to his question or an attempt to shake the thoughts out, Scott wasn't sure. He simply grabbed her wrist and dragged her from the room and into a small sitting room, locking the door behind him.

"Talk to me, Jean," he repeated the same sentiment with his thoughts.

Jean shut her eyes tight and sat down, "I just...need a minute."

"Do you need me to get Charles?"

She shook her head once more, "I'll be fine. I just need to focus. You can got back if you want."

He didn't want. He stayed.

She wasn't sure how long it took, but eventually the voices became whispers and then a buzz in the back of her mind once more. Her emerald eyes opened and she stood, "Better."

He nodded, "Let's go."

He guided her back to the reception hall, careful not to touch her again, expecting that he wouldn't be able to let go if he did.

With that small crisis averted, Jean was glad that a small vacation was coming to relax her mind a bit. The reception was horrid, knowing there were uncaring comments thrown their way, but they simply didn't care and/or understand. Eyes followed their every move, flinch, and twitch and were as uncomfortable on the two as they were irritating. Looks were to be expected at the couple at a wedding, but not with as much hostility.

One by one, the guests, of whose names neither the bride or the groom could remember, left with their prejudices. Scott and Jean shared a smile as they walked up the stairs that night.

Tomorrow, they could go on vacation.

Later that night, Charles sat in his study, still dressed in his suit, listening to the quiet hum of the sleeping minds of his surrogate children. For now, they were safe. Charles had a conference to attend in the morning, and he hoped that with it, they could be even more so.

**I hope it was a good enough chapter for all of you. Personally, I hate writing the wedding chapters, but it obviously had to be done. I couldn't think of anything to have happen during the wedding since I figured they would both want it over with as quickly as possible.**

**Jean's look was inspired by a couple pictures. They are posted on my Facebook page, to which the link can be found on my profile.**

**Please review.**


	19. Confessions

**Thank you LuizaMartins for reviewing the last chapter (even though it was twice ;) ). I appreciate it.**

* * *

Scott put Jean's suitcase into the trunk of his car and waited patiently for Jean to come down the stairs. She did with a diamond ring marking her as his on her left hand. He glanced down at his own to see a matching silver band encircling his finger.

Instead of feeling trapped by the piece of metal, he felt safe. Loved. Even though it wasn't real, it was a nice feeling.

Jean smiled at him, a smile he never got tired of seeing, "I'm ready. How about you?"

Scott nodded, "Let's go."

Charles had offered Scott and Jean a month of honeymoon/vacation, the same he had offered Hank and Ororo, but Scott and Jean had accepted. After all, neither of them had school or a job to worry about, yet, and the isolation would do them both some good. Scott could release some pent up energy in the seclusion and Jean could relax her mind and try to better focus her telepathy.

The sneaky old man also had other motives that he was sure the two newlyweds had noticed, but hadn't wanted to dwell on. Just as well. If they wanted to come back, they knew they could at any given time, but the image would still stick.

It was time to start the 75 hour drive from Westchester, NY to Anchorage, AK. They were going to drive straight through, only stopping for necessities. Scott had drawn up directions for when it was Jean's turn to drive and his to sleep. He was adamant about not drawing up directions for after they got to Anchorage, so he was driving the rest of the way just as he had wanted.

Complete privacy comes at a high cost, but he was willing to pay it. No one but him and a few others could know of its existence.

Jean wasn't yet tired after a good night's rest, so she wasn't going to sleep yet. She was going to draw up conversation, even if it killed her, "So, why wouldn't you tell me the directions? Is it some serial killer's storage or trophy room?"

"Of course," he said, though cheerful. "It's where I keep the best of my ex-wives. You see, normally I just murder them, but some...I just can't bear parting with them like that. I keep parts of them so they're always with me."

She laughed, "You know, you could always get a locket or something."

"Nah. I'm more personal than that. I prefer keeping the real deal," Scott nodded, as they were at a stoplight.

She rolled her eyes and pulled out a book. Scott began laughing hysterically when he saw the title, the sound making Jean jump a mile, "What in heaven's name is your problem?"

He just gestured to the cover and began driving again, still chuckling loudly. The book she was reading was _Red Dragon _by Thomas Harris.

"What's that about serial killers?"

She just giggled with him and continued to read.

* * *

It was a long few days of continuous driving. The points where they had to stop just to get blood flowing through their legs were becoming more frequent. Both were beginning to hate the small car, being trapped in it for so long, but Jean realized the fact that Scott was letting her drive his baby meant a whole lot more than a few tingling sensations in her legs were worth.

Finally, on the fourth day of driving, they arrived in Anchorage. Scott stretched his still sleepy muscles and climbed into the driver's seat for one last run. It was a long one, almost five hours, but was still nothing compared to the shifts they had just undergone.

Jean jumped when Scott shook her arm to wake her, "You can sleep in the house, Red. We're here."

She turned her head and looked out the window. If she had thought her wedding had been a winter paradise, this was a winter heaven. The snow was perfectly white and sparkling in the sun, coating everything in its chilly grasp.

Jean exited the car in a daze from the beauty of the place, not sure exactly why since she hadn't been expectant of anything bad, and took her suitcases from Scott. She followed him into the house, which was a large cabin surrounded by forest and snow. The inside of the cabin was just as cold as the outside, so Scott began a fire.

"On the second floor, the room at the end of the hall is the master. That's mine. You can have any other room for yourself," he said, looking into the glowing flames.

She nodded though he couldn't see and dragged her bags up the stairs. She was beginning to wonder why she had packed so much.

Looking in a few rooms, she finally picked the fourth she opened the door to. It was styled like a typical guest room, but had a wide window with a great view of the mountains and an adjoining bathroom. It was perfect.

Jean began putting some of her things away as she heard Scott coming up the stairs. She thought about shutting the door, but realized that would be completely impolite given that he had taken her to his personal getaway for a honeymoon and was willing to let her stay here for a month with him.

Scott popped his head in and looked around nostalgically at the room, "This was the guest room my grandparents used to sleep in. My grandmother had loved the mountains so my parents, when building this place, had made sure to build a room that gave her that. They visited a lot. They both died before my parents did, one right after the other, otherwise they would have moved in here and taken care of us."

She nodded, listening intently to his every word. He shook himself from that daze, "But that's all done and overwith. I hope you enjoy the room."

With that, he shut the door and quickly retreated to his own. Sighing, Jean grabbed another book off of the shelf, a medical journal, and set out to read by the fire.

* * *

Another few days passed, leaving them down one week, and they had developed a certain respect for each other in that time. Neither of them would admit that part of it was a growing sense of sexual tension.

Jean wouldn't admit that she would lightly gasp everytime he would brush against her when reaching for something, particularly in the kitchen.

Scott wouldn't admit to nearly reaching out and grabbing her everytime she was walking past.

It was a difficult union, but they did it well, passing everything off in cold questions and even more frosty answers. One night, while sitting near the fire while the wind was howling outside from a snow storm about to hit, Jean put her book down, rubbed her eyes, and curled up into Scott's side. His shoulder became her pillow.

He was shocked, but put his arm around her nonetheless and despite a second's hesitation on her part, she soon snuggled in closer, pulling an throw blanket with her telekinesis. Jean's breathing soon evened out and she fell into a deep sleep.

He found himself contently staring at the sleeping woman instead of the book he was supposed to be reading. A quick ring from the telephone startled him, but Jean only shifted in her sleep. Thankful for that, he answered it, "Hello?"

"Hello, Scott. It's Charles."

"Good evening, night to you. What's going on?"

"You don't not have a television there, correct?"

"No, I don't."

"Then allow me to be the first to proudly inform you of the overruling of the Genetic Assurance Act. The Supreme Court ruled today in a 5-4 vote that forcing mutants to marry by law is illegal and completely unconstitutional."

Scott's jaw nearly dropped, as did his heart, "They did?"

"Yes, son, they did. You two can get annulled as soon as you're ready, however, you are welcome to stay on vacation. How is Jean coming along with her telepathy?"

Scott sighed, trying to to let his conflicting emotions get in the way of the current conversation, "Her telekinesis is better off. She can now pick a salt shaker up and bring it to her hand without accidentally shooting it somewhere, dropping it, or exploding it. Her telepathy is a bit more shaky, but we're working on it."

"Good, good. Then, if you wouldn't mind, I would like to request more vacation from you both as your instructors. If this can help her at all to learn control, I'd like to keep it that way."

"Understood. Thank you, sir, for the phone call."

"Of course, Scott. Have a nice vacation. Goodbye," Charles hung up on his end.

"Goodbye," he recited into a dead line.

Slowly putting the phone back in its cradle, he wondered how Jean would take the news. Probably demand that it be annulled at once. At least, that's what he would be doing if he had any shred of common sense.

But he didn't. He was in love with her, wanted to stay with her, and was going to be damned if he wasn't going to fight for her.

Jean snored lightly and he tightened his grip.

He would tell her when she woke up.

* * *

Scott did tell her when she woke up, but she didn't take it as he would have expected. Instead of jumping up and down with cheers, her shoulders slumped softly and she said in a whisper, "That's great."

She had stood up and walked up the stairs as if she was marching to a funeral.

Was she disappointed?

Damn right she was. In fact, she was rather pissed off.

How dare fate play this trick on her? Wait until after they were married, after she had decided her crush was more? Damn them! Damn them all.

With tears in her eyes, she walked back down the stairs and outside to watch the snow fall from the blizzard coming outside. She had wanted to be alone in her pain, but Scott wouldn't allow it. Not realizing what he was doing, he followed her.

"I know it's snowing like mad right now, but after it clears we could drive somewhere and have our marriage taken care of," he offered. "Or we could wait until we get back to New York."

She stayed silent, wishing he would just go away.

"I mean, as soon as possible this could all just be a bad nightmare. You would never have to remember this happened. In fact, I'm sure Charles could wipe this from your mind."

He was just thinking out loud, but Jean turned his way, "What did you say?"

"Hmm?" he asked, remembered what he had said. "About the nightmare or mind wiping?"

"Either!" she exclaimed. "Is that how you see me? As a fucking nightmare? A memory you need erased to keep on living?"

"What?" Scott was mentally backtracking as quickly as possible, trying to keep up. "I was just suggesting that this obviously wasn't the most desirable of situations, so maybe you wouldn't want to remember it."

Tears fell from her eyes, "Is that what you want? To forget about me? To make me never have happened?"

"Wh-no! Of course not!"

"You just said you would rather not remember it!"

"I wasn't talking about me, Jean. I was talking about you."

"What the hell do you know about me?! What made you think I wouldn't want to keep my memories?"

"I-"

She turned around and hugged herself, trying to calm down as objects began floating, "Damn, I was right all along. I shouldn't have fallen for you. It was a bad idea, but I did it anyway. I fucking did it."

He was confused, trying to understand what she just said, but as he was about to ask what she meant, she held her arms out and screamed, "ARE YOU HAPPY NOW? IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED YOU SICK BASTARDS?! I HATE MYSELF AGAIN, CONGRATU-FUCKING-LATIONS!"

Scott was beginning to be afraid, especially since he felt her rage and fear, but most of all her embarrassment over her stupidity, "Calm down, Jean, for God's sake!"

"Why? So you can control me to? I thought you wanted me gone! I thought you didn't want me!"

Jean turned back around to face him and he replied, "I do want you. I don't want to forget about you, but for God's sake, could you stop screaming?!"

"Of course you want to forget about me! Everyone does! No one wants to remember Crazy Jean!"

"Will you stop it?!" he was screaming now. "I don't hate you!"

"Why not? There's nothing good about me!"

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, OKAY?!" he finished, grabbing her shoulders in his clenching fists.

Jean's mind stopped full speed, nearly causing a crash just like the objects falling were, "What?"

He took a deep breath, "I love you, Jean. Would you please stop trying to tell me I don't?"

She began to cry again and walked back into the house and up the stairs, "You can't and you don't. You won't!"

"But I do," he replied softly. "And I think you love me too."

She stopped halfway up the stairs and thought about that, "You're damn right I do."

She then turned and jumped into his waiting arms.

* * *

**YAY! They finally confessed! I'm not sure yet, but I think the next chapter will contain some smut. If that's not your thing, don't read, but since I hate writing smut, I'm not sure I'll feel up to it. Whatever I feel like doing, I guess.**

**Please review!**


End file.
